War, Peace, and Love
by Little Miss Duh Duh
Summary: England, 1914. Summer was just around the corner. It held many promises: sunshine, the trips to seashore, piano lessons, first love; life had never seemed to be so promising. Nevertheless, I could sense that sooner or later, fate would intervene. OOC,AU.
1. Prologue

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**War, Peace, and Love.**

**Summary:** _England, 1914. The perfect Indian summer was just around the corner, and along with it came many promises:__ Sunshine, trips to the sea, blueberries, new friends, piano lessons, first love...__  
Life had never seemed to be so promising. Nevertheless, I could sense that sooner or later, fate would intervene. _

OCC, AU, AH so far.

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**AN**: Yay! After many excruciating hours of endless editing (and a bum glued to the chair), I present my first "I-so-wanted-to-write-it" fanfic story. Thank you for taking time to read this story. I really hope that you will enjoy it!

Of course, suggestions, comments, and reviews will be more than welcome.

**Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own Twilight. The characters in the story belong to Stephenie Meyer.** I merely send them in time machine to 1914.

Without rambling further ado, I present: War, Peace, and Love.

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**Songs:**

James Horner - **Never An Absolution.**

Javier Navarrete – **Long, Long Time Ago (Hace Mucho, Mucho Tiempo)**

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**_Prologue:_**

**BPOV:**

Small, brisk raindrops fell on my face; their earthy scent soothed me and reminded me of home. The tiny raindrops were refreshing, and washed away the exhaustion that clung like a clay mask to my face. I barely slept these days.

I sat on a rectangular, old, brown suitcase, and held a little, wrapped bundle in my hands. They were my solemn possesses. I had lost everything else.

I squinted my eyes as I looked afar at the endless horizon. As the waves carried the boat, behind the rusty metal rails, I could see the slim line of the shore emerging slowly.  
In mere few months, life turned upside down. Memories of good times that I had, seemed to be far and distant; they were almost false and illusive because of their sweet taste that ripped a hole in my chest, when I remembered them. It was as if the happiest days of my life were nothing but dreams, and ploys of my imagination.

Suddenly, the sun rolled shyly from the clouds, and a rainbow stretched above the horizon. One of its end touched the flowing water, while its other end reached the shore.

The end was near. I could sense it. No fire is eternal, and soon its flames would fade away and die, leaving nothing but a faint smoke rising from ashes and ruins.

I only had to stay alive until then.

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**E****POV:**

The silence of the night filled with deafening shots, shouts, and ear-piercing screams.

I laid on the ground, and the long blades of grass stroked my face. I pressed my cheek closer to the ground, and closed my eyes.

The goddamn rain was pouring in buckets, and lightening flashed across the sky. The ground trembled and echoed from the hundred pairs of boots that run across the field, like a herd of angry bulls, threatening to stomp me to death.

I did not care; every cell and limb in my body ached, and I could even bother to raise my head. I only wanted to close my eyes and like every time I closed my eyes, she floated before my vision: angelic, bright and ivory white, opening and stretching her arms to me. The light that radiated from her, was blinding.

My memories of her were fading and grew distant, losing their brightness and vividness, as if they were being wrapped by a fog.

It seemed to be ages since I held her in my arms.

Then all suddenly, the white light began to fade, the noises ceased, and a pitch-black, velvet darkness wrapped me with silence.

She was gone.

For a moment, everything stood still; life had stopped.

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**AN:** Fear not- this is certainly not the end of Edward and Bella. The best is yet to come :)

**Review, if you please.**


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: **This is the first chapter of War, Peace, and Love. As you will notice, I like to go into details, what made this chapter long. This chapters features a Gaelic song. Many Gaelic songs had inspired this story, and I will be posting several of them as the story will progress.

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Twilight. Most of the charactes in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. **I merely send them in time machinge to 1914.

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**Songs:**

Nelly's song: "**Si Do Mhaimeo I**" by Celtic Woman.

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**Chapter 1**

**Ealing, May 13****th****, 1914:**

I slowly opened my eyes, breathing heavily, and felt the blood's pulse drumming against my temples and neck. I shifted carefully, trying to move as less as possible, so I would be able to recall the dream I had. I felt some constriction in my chest as anxiety and uncertain fear were persisting inside me, tightening invisible strings around my lungs.

Soft, yellow light of the first rays of dawn shone through the lace tulle curtains that were rocked gently by a light breeze.

I did not overcome from the vividness of the dream I had. I concentrated as I tried to recall any possible details from the dream but my efforts had been in vain. The more I tried to remember, the further my memory was slipping away, escaping like water slips through fingers.

I faintly remembered running. In the dream, I was running through a thick mist, fleeing away in attempt to save my life.

But from whom? From what danger I was trying to escape?

I could not go back to sleep, and afford the sleep that had been taken away. I turned over to the right side of the bed, and glanced at the ivory clock on the bed stand.

6:08 am.

I snapped from whatever haze that was blurring my mind, and remembered that today was the departure day. We, the Swans, were supposed to depart to Brighton in less than two more hours.

From the windows, I could hear the sounds and noises of the servants carrying the luggage and arranging belongings for the departure. Someone, probably Renee, was pacing loudly with rushed steps on the floor above my room, which echoed from the ceiling. With each thud that echoed, I could sense how anxiety and pre-departure stress were creeping into my room like eerie shadows, infecting me with panic as well.

Fast and steady steps were approaching toward my room from the corridor.

Leaning on the palms of my hands, I slowly rose and sat, taking deep breaths until I could feel the anxiety inside me beginning to calm down a little.

The door opened and Nelly came into my room. She carried a ceramic jug with water in a small basin, atop on a white towel in her hands.

"Good morning Bella" she smiled at me as she placed the jug on the dressing table.

Nelly had been with the family for since I could remember. She was my governess and with the years, had become a mentor, a loyal friend, and in some ways- a loving mother. As much as I loved Renee-my mother, Renee always had been young and slightly careless in her soul. Helen Callaghan, on the other side, or Nelly as the family got accustomed to call her, was an old, wise, Irish soul.

"Are you excited to go to Brighton?" she asked.

"Oh yes, certainly." I could not help but smile back at the sincere smile that reflected the love and kindness this simple, old woman gave me.

"I am really looking toward seeing the Hales, Wosie and Jasper especially. I have not seen them for quite a while".

Rosalie (Always Wosie for me, although she despised the name) and Jasper Hale were my cousins, and Renee's niece and nephew. Rosalie got engaged few months ago, and were about to become a bride in few more days. Jasper joined the navy forces in January, shortly after we spent our last Christmas together. I sighed as none of these words made any sense to me.

"Who would believe how fast time flies…" another sigh escaped as I pronounced the phrase that I used to hear so often in my childhood from adults, and I loathed every time I heard it. But now it comes from my own mouth.

It seemed that only few days ago Jasper, Wosie, and I were running bare-footed and careless across golden wheat fields, or climbing apples trees, when none of the grown-ups were supervising us. Often, stripes of mud decorated our cheeks, and we would always spoil our best clothes. Our parents would scold, and slap us, but no matter how severely we were punish, it never really mattered to us, the imps. We were the three little Indians; the three unbeatable Musketeers- Un pour tous, tous pour un, meaning all for one and one for all.

"But you are not child any more, and neither is Rosalie, or Jasper" a scolding voice whispered in my mind.

The days of the three musketeers were gone, and I will always miss them dearly.

"Some day, you will be a bride too. And you will be one beautiful bride…" Nelly's eyes sparkled with mischief and admiration, as if she heard my thoughts.

"This will not happen any time soon, but if such this day will come, I would like to have a small wedding by the sea" I blushed. "The sea is lovely in Brighton. I want to go the sea, the next day after our arrival. I certainly do not look toward the party that the Hales will be hosting".

Big parties and large companies are customary, whether the Hales are in town, Sutton, or Brighton, and the wedding day is certainly one promising nightmare. I was not attracted to large gatherings and crowds.

"I would rather spend my time by the seashore instead, with an Austen's novel in my lap and listen to the waves crushing against the gold saaand…" a yawn escapes from my mouth and I stretch my hands as wide as I can to brush away the remains of sleep.

"Be assured, some day, it will be your wedding day, my dear Isabella. You have to be more secure, and confident about yourself. One cannot spend all his time being alone, without a companion. Loneliness is one gloomy, and bottomless pit" her eyes fill with sudden sadness. "Besides, anyone who will see you, will enjoy your company, and enlighten from your bright insight, and your lovely face. You simply have to accept yourself as you are: a wise and a beautiful young lady".

Nelly, bless her heart, always told the truth and I wanted to believe her, as much as I was in doubt. I did not find myself beautiful, and I seriously lacked grace. I sprained my ankle at least twice a week, and could not walk of flat ground without stumbling, and tripping over my own feet. I was not very talkative and avoided encountering with strangers, if I could not avoid going to a particular social gathering.

I grabbed my silk robe and went toward the dressing table. Nelly poured warm water from the jug into the basin, and fetched me a fresh towel that was perfumed with lavender. As I washed my face, Nelly left the room again and came back with freshly laundered and ironed clothes for me and several boxes.

Nelly stretched and opened the panels of the dressing screen. I loved this dressing screen: It was a recent gift from Renee. She had ordered it from a Japanese artist who painted gold-leaf screens with an oriental motif of blooming tree and bamboo, cast in dark cherry wood frame.

I suddenly noticed the suspiciously familiar boxes and gave them a dreaded glance. These boxes meant only one thing: Corsets. I winced. The ones inside the box surely had to be a recent fashion statement of yet another "glove-fitting" torture device that my mother called an "essential" for every self-respecting lady's wardrobe.

Nelly observed the dreading expression that was written all over my face. "I know that you hate them, but as your mother insisted that you must look presentable. You know that I do not think that you need to be any more beautiful than you are". She planted a kiss on my forehead. "I will not tight it too harshly. There is a long journey ahead of you so you will be quite comfortable".

"Thank you Nelly. I shall miss you very much when we will be away" I hugged her back her small, fragile frame.

Nelly helped me with the corset, fetched my travel clothing. It did not escape my attention that the clothes were perfectly ironed and pressed, although I knew that by the end of this day they would be all wrinkled, and seeing the effort and care that Nelly had invested into each item, saddened me.

As usually, Nelly was cheerful, and sang old songs in her native Gaelic language. Today, sang her favorite song: "Si Do Mhaimeo I". It seemed to be an innocent song, but she told me secretly when I became old enough, that the song spoke of an old hag with money.

I laughed as she sang. How could she love me so much, unconditionally...

I slowly descended down the stairs, on my way to breakfast in dining room, carefully so I will not twist and sprain my ankles. I had a tendency to get into minor and major accidents frequently, and this was the last thing I needed to happen, and shatter Renee's already stressed nerves.

Charlie sat in his regular place at the head of the table, already hidden behind the morning's print, clutching a small cup that was steaming with freshly brewed coffee. The steam that rose behind the paper was thick enough, so he probably was already smoking his pipe.

I scoffed. Charlie will always remain to be Charlie.

"Morning Dad" I sat on his left.

Cough, cough, and a harrumph. "Morning Bells" he replied without raising his eyes from the newspaper.

The door opened and Renee walked into the room.

"Charles Swam, for the love of god, where are your manners" she scolded as she took a seat by Charlie's right side, across from me, simultaneously grabbing and fetching away the newspaper, and the pipe from Charlie.

Charlie groaned, and I stiffed a laugh.

The male servant that stood not afar from the table, and did not dare to make any notion before Renee walked into the room, took this as cue to serve our breakfast. Like always, the traditional oatmeal porridge, eggs, and ham were served.

I declined coffee, and drank a brewed strong tea instead, afraid that caffeine would send me in hyper or ever worse, hysteria, and make me lose the pitiful shreds of calmness that remained in me.

While Charlie and I remained silent throughout the breakfast, responding only when necessary, Renee chattered and rambled in excitement about seeing her sister again, and the upcoming wedding of her niece, hinting frequently to Charlie that a respectful majority of London's elite will be attending the Wedding of Sir Hale's daughter.

Breakfast was over soon, and we hastened outside. As I stepped outside, I gasped.

"Do you like it Bells?" Charlie asked as he stood beside me.

Cars had always been one of Charlie's passions, since he was a boy. Now that he was a grown-up, he was slowly purchasing items for his collection of cars, living his long desired childhood dream . My favorite one, was a Mercedes 22/50 PS town car. It was quite gorgeous and resembled a box shaped carriage, with cherry- brown panels, and a carcass that was framed and accented with gold. But it certainly could not be compared to the car that stood before me.

"It is beautiful. What model is it?" I still could not take my eyes away from the car.

"This is a Cadillac model-Racy Phaeton. Lovely, is it not it?" Charlie was his usual modest self , but I could see that his face was beaming with pride.

Yes, it was lovely. It was long, gleaming with sleek black, accented with golden details, wood spoke wheels, and leather interior seats that resembled miniature sofas.

The luggage, and suitcases had been placed atop of the Mercedes that stood behind the Phaeton, and were wrapped securely with thick ropes, since the Phaeton had no trunk or space for the luggage. The Phaeton was merely escorting us.

What a luxury, fit for a princess, I thought. Rosie would certainly wish to have a ride on it, on her wedding day.

The servants loaded all our belongings, and formed in line as their farewell gesture. Renee came and nodded politely, while Charlie on the other hand, shook each hand.

Nelly stood at the end of the line. I hugged her and she kissed the top of my forehead.

"We will be back soon, Nelly. You know I will miss you" I said.

"Be a good girl, Isabella. I wish you a wonderful time with your cousins. Say hello to Rosalie and Jasper from me" she tried to hide the tears in her voice.

We got in the Cadillac, and the chauffeur closed the doors. I waved the servants, Nelly, and the house goodbye for the last time.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: **Oh wow, so many hits in just few days! I can't say how excited I am. This urged me to sit and write this chapter even faster, and I wrote it in just two days, what is a record for me.

**Tomorrow, May 29****th****, is my birthday. Yes, I do count and accept reviews as gifts :)**

I know that this is only the beginning of my story and I haven't written much, but it will be really nice to hear any comments and opinions about the opening of the story and the first chapter. 1st, 5th, and 10th reviewers will get their stories recommended in the next chapter.

**This shout-out goes to the wonderful xxdawnbreakerxx: Thank you, you made my day! I hope you will enjoy reading the next chapters of the story.**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Twilight. Most of the characters in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. **I merely send them in time machinge to 1914 and gave them new family members.

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**Songs:**

Edith Piaf- **La Vie En Rose**.  
A lovely classic, and a favorite of mine. I found it to suit the scene when the Swan are riding the countryside.

Edith Piaf- **Milord**.  
A jolly, oldie tune. I think it suits well Renee's character, particularly when she annoys Charlie :)

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**Chapter 2:**

The countryside view stretched as far as my eyes could see, and the Cadillac passed miles upon miles of green hills. I probably could sort out at least one hundred rich shades of green in the pastoral landscape. I pulled out the sketchbook from the leather bag, to make several sketches of the view.

I needed to get new ideas for my drawing lessons that will resume, once I will return from the trip. I tried to memorize the uniqueness of each shade as I only had charcoal pencils, and catch the detail my eyes saw: neat rows of stacked rocks, distant trees that looked like giant bushes, the cottages that were picking timidly behind them; the wildflowers that grew along the borderlines of the of the road, broken wooden wheel hidden beneath long, green blades of grass...

Suddenly, an idea came to me: what if I would try to sketch the first thing my eyes saw will, and draw it without breaking any lines, or the contact from the page?

It turned out to be a challenging task, but I focused my eyes on the landscape, and continued to move the charcoal across the paper, without removing my hand from the page. I avoided looking at the paper, and traced the contours my eyes saw. It was as though I was trying to command my hand with the eyes, not the mind. I focused on a single object at a time, but the motion made the details move past me, and escape from my sight, as it they tried to run away**. **Every time this happened, I focused on a new, more distant detail in the landscape.

I sketched for several minutes, until I caught with the rear of my sight that the page quickly filled with many floating, curvy lines.

I looked at the sketch. At first, it looked like a mess, drawn by a hand of a child. I stared at the sketch more carefully, and abstract details began to emerge: rocks, trees, and houses. It was like playing a game with the mind, try to spy for hidden images.

The sketch resembled an Arte Nouveau style. This style fascinated me: it was rebellious, broke the discipline of tradition, and caused quite a stir in the past decade, promoted by Bohemian artists and the children of 'Revolution', as they called themselves. But now Europe was overtaken by storm with a new trend- Modernism, or so I thought they called it.

Renee sat beside me, and knitted the whole way with her crochet. She paused for a moment, to peek at my sketchbook.

"I don't know what is it, but I like it," she admired. "May I?" she took away the sketchbook.

Renee and I shared a common trait- our love of the arts. We often spent our times together painting, or visiting art galleries. She took a great deal in my drawing lessons, and actually was the first to introduce me to a new world, and a glossary full with terms: media, perspectives, hues, impressionism. The most important lesson she taught me about arts, was to search not only beauty, but the words and emotions that were veiled behind a particular artwork.

"It is only a rough sketch. I noticed some details in view, and I tried to capture and draw them, without breaking the lines and looking at the page," I explained.

"Oh my! Look Charles," she handed Charlie the Sketchbook, " isn't it genuine?" she exclaimed with excitement. "Isabella obviously has a talent for arts".

"Mother, it is only a sketch," I protested. It was not the best of times to bother Charlie.

Charlie bothered to remove the newspaper edition he did not finish reading in the morning, and glanced at the sketch. "Great idea Bells, but honestly speaking, it looks like a mess to me. You can draw better than this, Bells." He shrugged his shoulders, and went back to reading his newspaper.

Unlike Charlie, Renee tended to go along with the trends. Anything unusual, or the word she loved to roll that word out of her mouth- '_modern_', appealed to her.

"Oh Charles, What do you know about the arts?" she scolded. "Don't listen to him, Isabella". She wrapped one arm around me, and rested her head on mine. "Now, I was thinking about sending you to an arts school. Probably somewhere in Paris. What would you say to that?" Renee smiled at me.

_Paris_, I thought. My mind suddenly whirled with associations: Eiffel tower, Avenue des Champs-Elysées, Arc de Triomphe, Louvre, cafés...

"That will be wonderful!" I sounded like a silly, little girl who was told that Christmas is coming earlier this year.

I clearly remembered the first time I went with Renee and Charlie to Paris, four years ago. It was a magical trip. Charlie knew that Renee and I liked Ballet, so he secretly bought us tickets to the Premiere of "Scheherazade" of the Ballet Russes, at the Théâtre de l'Opéra.

I let the memories float, and occupy my mind, distracting me from boredom.

Renee returned to her crochet project, and spoke loudly as she scaled the options of various art schools I could be sent to, that according to her, were the best in Europe.

Charlie nodded, and added an occasional "hmm" and "uh-huh" here and there, letting Renee provide the necessary entertainment to amuse herself, and distract us for awhile.

We made frequent stops, to dine and relax at local inns, and refill the tank of the car when we stopped in towns.

When we finally arrived at Brighton, it was a dusk, exhausted and tired, not bothering to admire the beauty of the Town. Even Renee's enthusiasm cooled, and she was unusually quiet by the time we arrived at Brighton.

***

Hales' beautiful villa had all its windows lit with lights when we arrived. I could detect several figures standing in front of the mansion, awaiting our arrival.

Among all the three houses the Hales owned, the villa was their favorite house. It was built by Sir George Hale as a present to my aunt, Lady Ann Hale, who was Renee's sister. The villa was one of the most beautiful gems in Hale family's jewels collection; the diamond in their crown.

Someone rung a bell, indicating our arrival to the inhabitants of the house.

The porter greeted us with a bow, and ushered us inside. We were led through a long corridor into the circular foyer. Several servants hastened outside to unload, and bring the luggage. The silence that surrounded the mansion earlier, evaporated, and the house seemed to stir with life.

Uncle George quickly appeared atop of the staircase. He greeted Charlie with a warm handshake, Renee with a kiss on both her cheeks, and me- with an enormous bear hug.

"Welcome, dear guests to our _humble abode_! We were impatiently awaiting your arrival. If you will kindly follow me..." he lead us upstairs, to guests room.

I nearly snorted, as he pronounced the wrong noun and adjective. _Humble abode_... Surely, it had to be one of his little private jokes.

Unlike most of my relatives, who were reserved and polite, but lacked warmth and emotion, uncle George had a merry character. His face seemed to be in a permanent smile, even when he did not smile, and had laugh wrinkles around his eyes.

Despite his wealth, he never bragged, and had always been generous and welcoming. Of course, he was my favorite uncle.

"Please be seated, and feel at home. I will bring us some port, to raise the spirits. I hope your journey was not too harsh, was it?" he questioned.

"Oh, how kind of you George! Thanks to Charles's recently purchased car, the ride was bearable," Renee replied. "But pray, where is Ann, and the bride to-be?"

As if on cue, aunt Ann appeared on the balcony above the guest room. She saw us, and her face brightened with smile. In a very non lady-like manner she ran down the stairs, holding the hemline of her skirt like a damsel-in-distress.

"Dear sister! Oh, what joy! I was worried about your delay" she had tears in her eyes as she hugged Renee. She hugged Charlie, and then enveloped me in her arms. " And here is my beloved niece! You had grown so much since last Christmas. What a lady!" she loving pinched my cheeks. " Oh my, you all must be starving my dears! Joyce!" she called, and rang a bell.

"We are fine, Ann, sit down with us for awhile." Renee reassured Ann, knowing her sister had a more vibrant character than herself.

The maid, named Joyce, quickly appeared by auntie's side. "Dinner will be served in twenty minutes Ma'am," she announced.

"Fetch Rose, Joyce. And tell Frank to serve as soon as possible." auntie sounded slightly annoyed.

"Are you in good health Ann?" Charlie asked politely.

"Why, you are the first person to ask, Charles! I had a terrible migraine this morning. All the troubles and hastens that we have now with Rose's upcoming nuptials. I briefly ordered fine French lace, and instead, they sent me ostrich feathers..." she trailed on, touched that someone seemed to care, and showed concern for her well being.

Charlie nodded in sympathy to as she poured her concerns before him, but uncle George quickly saved Charlie. He interrupted auntie's tells of lace and ostrich-feathers by distracting with a question about the newly purchased Cadillac. This encouraged and opened Charlie, and the two men quickly settled into conversation about cars. Renee and her sister chattered about Rose's upcoming wedding.

I sat for awhile, smiling politely as I listened to their conversations. But soon, I grew bored with their conversations. I excused myself, and left in search after Rose.

I was not unfamiliar with this house, but I couldn't not to stop, and admire the fine details that enhanced the house's beauty as I walked toward the foyer. I took the spiral staircase to the third floor, and a long hallway stretched before me. Then, I turned right.

As I crossed the hallway, I spotted several new portraits, and framed photographs. I searched for my favorite – a photo of me at age four, six-years old Rose holding my right hand, and eight-years old Jasper holding my left hand. We all had matching sailor outfits and straw hats.

One particular painted portrait framed in gold, caught my attention. It was of Rosie and a tall, handsome man. This was probably her fiance.

I admired the portrayed for few minutes. The artist was certainly a talented one: he managed to capture Rose's gentle smile, and gave an interesting shade to her blue-sapphire eyes that beamed with love.

I located her door, but before I could knock, it swung open, and Rosie stood before me.

"Bells!" she squealed, and jumped on me, before I could react. " I sensed it were you behind the door!"

"Wosie! You are squashing me!" I teased.

"Oh, I am sorry Bells," she eased slightly her locking hug." I am just soooo happy that you are here! Just like old times". Her eyes glistened like two small stars.

"And where is the third musketeer?" I inquired after Jasper.

"Oh, Jas the old ass, will be coming home soon in few days, when they will release him from the navy."

She dragged me into her room.

Rosie's room that was usually neat, tidy and elegant, by now was a distant echo from such description. Magazines, clothes, gowns, and hats seemed to be everywhere: on bed, on floor, and several chairs that were scattered around the room. Her vanity mirror was practically invisible behind the many bottles, and jeweler boxes. In the east corner, a headless mannequin stood, wrapped with many colorful fabrics.

"What, are you hiding the Philosophers' stone in your room?" I asked as I tried to locate a vacant spot to sit on.

"Huh?" she was preoccupied searching after something in her enormous closet.

"It seems like someone tried to rob your room," I pointed.

"Ah, there it is!" She found whatever she was searching after, and turned back to me. "What do you say?"

It was her wedding dress. It was made from fine silk, embroidered with detailed, silver patterns, and tiny pearls. The neckline and the sleeves were accented with beautiful lace that seemed to be woven by spiders, as delicate as it was.

"Wosie, it is gorgeous!" I exclaimed. "Tres Bon. I love it!"

"Wait until you will see your bridesmaid dress. My maid of honor will have only the finest dress. I imported everything from Paris."

"The bridesmaid is not supposed to be more beautiful than the bride," I reminded.

"Rest assured, you will not overshadow me, and I will lend you the dress if someday you will need it," she laughed.

It was so easy and comfortable to be with Rosie, even in this mess she insisted was her room, and there was no Philosophers' stone hidden in there. She told me that she threatened the maids- if they would only dare to move by an inch, she would ask the cook to serve their heads as the main course dish on her wedding day. And Nobody dared to say 'no' to, and mess with Wosie.

God, how I missed being with her. It was like been apart from a twin soul.

We babbled and tattled, resembling much our own mothers; we had to catch and make up for all the time we spent away from each other.

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**AN: **

It is time for a little history fact: the Théâtre de l'Opéra is commonly known as Palais Garnier today, but a careful research showed me that it was known as the Théâtre de l'Opéra at the period of 1875-1978. It was the first theatre to that had red, velvet seats. The architect, Charles Garnier, said that he saw the women coming to the opera as rare jewels, and therefore it would be fit for them to sit on jewelry-boxes. Jewelery boxes were commonly lined with red velvet at the time. The idea became so popular that many theatres and cinemas use the familiar red shade fabrics for the seats.

**Review please!**


	4. Chapter 3

**AN:** Triple Swoon- New moon trailer was a well deserved reward for those who of us that tuned in to see the Sunday movies awards. It was _sooo _obvious who would take most of the popcorn buckets home.

It was hard to write this chapter, but rest assured that The Bear and the McSparkly are coming this chapter. And Jasper lovers, do not despair (and do not slay me)- I promise he will be back home from the navy next chapter.

Check out the first song of this chapter! The jukebox in my head turned on, and endlessly played the tune , so I wrote this chapter with this song. It is lovely. I could not get this song out of my mind. I wish I could go on a trip to the sea myself *sighs*. And have I mentioned how lovely is it?  
Also check out the "Raindrops" prelude- it is one of my favorite classics.

**This shout-outs go to starsandvelvet, and manda2784 who kindly gave me with my first review. You rock!!!**

**Disclaimer: **I do NOT own Twilight. Most of the characters in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer.

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Songs:

Charles Trenet- **La Mer**  
(This song has an alternative English version called "Beyond The Sea".  
I prefer the original French chanson version- it sounds more romantic in French, and fits better the atmosphere of the story).

Frederic Francois Chopin- **Prelude in D-flat major ("Raindrops") op. 28 no. 15.**

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**Chapter 3:**

Hales' cook served a dinner that included creamed mushroom soup, crab salad, roasted beef with scallop potatoes, and a Yorkshire pudding for dessert**.**

Auntie Ann urged us every spare moment to eat more, and try every single dish that was on the table. The atmosphere around the table was holidays-like, filled with excitement and joy. The only thing that notably presented was Jasper's absence; he was greatly missed.

After dinner, tea and cakes was served. Uncle George requested after a card-table and we played several rounds of Bridge. I was not bad at playing the bridge, but I could not build my game strategy well and very soon, tiredness took over; my eyes burned and felt heavy.

I politely declined the game, when uncle George was dealing the cards on the fourth round, and bid everyone good night.

Rose placed her cards aside, announcing that she would keep me company, but I insisted that she would stay and play another round; her hand pulled the best cards tonight. She smiled at me, and promised to join me very soon.

I retired to my guest room that was next door to Rose's . The atmosphere in her room was rather chaotic, like after storm, and I doubted that Rose would be able to sleep there peacefully, so naturally, we were going to spend the night in my room.

At last, I felt freed as I striped from the semi-formal outfit that I wore for dinner and the goddamn corset, and slipped into the soft nightgown.

The maid lit the the fireplace, and put a pot with hot coals beneath the blankets. The room was nicely warmed, and the bed radiated with soothing, comforting heat that relaxed my sore joints.

Rose knocked and entered the room few minutes later. Whenever she and I were together, we held our old bedtime ritual: brushing each other's hair and confessing secrets .

I sat behind her and brushed her long, golden waterfall of hair, and probed her about her feelings and thoughts. The flames in the fire place danced on her cheeks, giving more allure and mystery to her soft face. She took the role of Scheherazade, telling me tells of thousand and one nights.

The edges of her cheeks filled with blush as she confessed how the man of her dreams captured her heart, and began to recite the poems he wrote her. She remembered every single word , reciting them with a deep passion, almost whispering them. Her eyes clouded with mist, smiling absent minded, as she stared at flames that danced in the fireplace. She seemed to be truly happy.

We switched turns. Rose took out the pins from my aching scalp, releasing nicely shaped curls, and brushed them gently. We talked about everything: love, dreams, hopes, wishes; the futures we hoped to have...

I haven't noticed that I fell asleep. That night, I had a dreamless sleep.

***

When I opened my eyes, the room was filled with soft, yellow light, and soft snores; no doubt, Rose fell asleep beside me. It was still early, but I felt refreshed and full of spirits after the dreamless sleep. I wanted to pull a feather from the pillow and tease Rose in the sleep, but I changed my mind as I looked at the innocent face of the bride to-be; soon, tasks and duties will be claiming her attentions so let her sleep for awhile now, far away from worries and concerns.

I retired a robe from my suitcase, and left to the bathroom. When I returned to the room, Rose already left.

A visit to the beach was on plan today, and I rummaged in the contents of my suitcase in attempt to find my bathing suit. I made a mental note to myself to request the maid to arrange my belongings in the closet.

On my way to breakfast, I stopped at Rose's room to double check about the plan.  
Breakfast was served at eight. As Rose and I were on our way to the dining room, a faint aroma of rich coffee lingered in the hallway, beckoning us to hasten. I was eager to start the day.

Auntie, uncle, Renee and Charlie were already present in the room, conversing as they kindly awaited Rose and me. It was a nice for a change to see Charlie conversing and not hiding behind his casual newspaper and pipe.

Charlie and uncle George declined the invitation to join the ladies for a trip to the beach, announcing instead that they would be visiting a nearby gentlemen's club.  
After breakfast, I quickly run upstairs to change into a light, floral dress. Beneath the dress, I wore my bathing suit that consisted of a scarlet tank top, and a knee-length skirt with red and white stripes. I packed into a straw bag another dress to change into after, underwear, and a silver hairbrush. Then I grabbed a wide straw hat and run downstairs as fast as I could.

Around ten, we were by the sea. I noticed that I was holding my breath as the car approached the sea.

The chauffeur carried the chairs for us, the ladies, and helped to settle the table and the parasol. Auntie ordered him to return around two in the afternoon.

My eyes drank with thirst the turquoise of its water and I hungrily breathed the salty air. It was nice to take off the shoes and feel how my feet sank in the warm, grainy sand. I pulled off the dress quickly.

"Hey Goldilocks, I bet I can race you to the shore," I shouted as I challenged Rose to race me to the sea, not giving her enough time to take off her clothes. I was already on my way to the water, running like a seven years old self, instead of seventeen, almost screeching and shouting from delight, and ignoring Renee's scolds that I was making a fool of myself.

Of course, I was the first one to reach the water. Goldilocks did not delay much behind me, giggling like a loon, and shoved me roughly in revenge that I nearly fell into the water. Her laugh infected me and I had a sudden giggles spasm. We sprinkled each other and water flew everywhere, and several bystanders gave us mean looks.

"Oh just look at them," Rose elbowed me and nudged at a certain direction, "they brought a _bathing machine_!"

I tried my best not to burst in laugh when I spotted the infamous bathing machine. It was the only bathing machine on the beach, as far as my eyes could see, which resembled a carriage, sans horses.

"It was probably an inheritance from their grandmother. What an antique treasure," Rose wheezed like a cat, still not able to overcome from her laugh. She clutched her side and laughed so hard I was afraid that soon, I would need to perform a cardiopulmonary resuscitation over her. Not that I knew what exactly the procedure involved, but fortunately, Goldilocks had more luck than I tended to have, and managed not to drown.

We tired soon from running, and spread our arms to float on water. My hear beat rapidly in my chest, but it was filled with delight. The sun caressed our faces, and the waves rocked us, reviving for awhile our childhood. We spent most of our morning between the shore and the sea, and in between, building gooey 'castles' from a wet sand that we run through our fists, hunted after beautiful sea-shells, accompanied by the cry of seagulls.

Auntie opened a picnic basket, and we, the ladies, brunched with eggs sandwiches, corn on the cob and fruits, chatting casually.

The hours passed noticeably and rapidly as minutes, and soon it was time to change and prepare to leave. I did not know when we would hold another beach day like today's, but I hoped that it will be soon before the wedding will take place.

***

When we returned home, auntie announced that several very important visitors would be expected tonight, and urged Rose and I to take enough time to prepare ourselves. Rose looked curious, and I only sighed, dreading the an unavoidable social gathering.

I took a quick shower, washing away the scent of the sea from my hair. My mind was slowly settling with an expectation of a dull evening, full of those polite conversation over business, politics, and the weather in best case, instead of a blissful evening with family.

Charlie and uncle George still had not returned, and we the ladies lunched at three o'clock.

The day had been sunny and exceptionally warm, so after lunch, Rose and I went outdoors to stroll in the garden.

On the way, Rose grabbed her basket with flosses of every possible colors and her recent with embroidery project. She promised to teach me how to embroider with cross-stitch, holding a small hoop. Her work was nearly done, showing a rich design of angel that made me very eager to start learning.

"The trick is in choosing an interesting, clear sketch and choose the right colors for flosses," she explained. She demonstrated how to make stitches, and stitched the parts that were supposed to be the angel's wings. She encouraged me to try, but I hesitated, afraid to spoil such perfection. Instead she pulled a white linen handkerchief and suggested me to practice stitching my name's initials on it.

We sat on the grass, surrounded by blooming irises, pansies and bluebells, stitching and chattering carelessly, , bathing in rays of sunshine.

I heard a car approaching the house, and a bell was indicating that it were the visitors had arrived.

Quickly Rose threw her work into the basket, rising from the ground, and excitement flashed across the face .

"Come on, Bella," she beckoned by pulling the hoop and the handkerchief away from me, " I really want to see who are they."

"Any idea who they may be?"

"No unless..." she paused as sudden reasoning crossed her face and she gasped in surprise.

She pulled my hand, nearly running toward the house.

"Go ahead," I released her, " I will follow you." It did seemed that it was not necessary to waste my breath on the run because of the arrival of some visitors. After all, they were here to see her and her family, not me.

I dropped in my room, getting rid of the basked, and glanced at the mirror. As much as I pretended not to care, I did want to look at least presentable to the guests. I released the casual knot on my head, and rearranged my hair into a french braid, tucking and pining its edge beneath the crown. I was glad to notice light tan on my usually dull, pale face.

I passed on purpose by the balcony that was above the guest room.

I observed that there were two young gentlemen, a girl that was near my age and looked very familiar, but among them, I recognized the figure that sat in the armchair- Grandma Lucille.

All heads turned in my direction, and I regretted not taking an alternative route to enter the guests room.

The two gentlemen rose from their seats, as I approached.

"Isabella, this is Emmett McCarthy, my fiance," Rose could not hide the happiness in her voice. I needed no reminding as I saw how each her movement and motion shouted with enthusiasm.

"Emmett, you do remember my cousin Isabella Marie Swan," she introduced me by my full name, as if I were a duchess, "my maid of honor," she added with importance.

"It is a pleasure to see you again miss Swan," Emmett kissed my hand, sending me into fevers of blush. Then, I noticed that he could easily crush it, and understood the motive; Goldilocks had mentioned once that her 'bear' spent his spare time boxing. Emmett McCarthy, was tall and muscular, and no doubt, very charming. I understood why Goldilocks was suddenly so giddy.

"The pleasure is mine Mr. McCarthy, but please, call me Bella."

"Only, if you will call me Emmett in turn," he smiled. "I do recall seeing you on the engagement party last winter. May I present you to my cousins Edward Anthony Masen and Mary Alice Brandon?"

The young gentleman that stood beside Emmett, quickly captured my interest. He had a handsome, attractive, well defined face, with correct facial symmetry lines that gave his face a certain masculine grace. The feature was most capturing about him was an usual shade of shining, bronze hair that was neatly combed, but few locks fell on his forehead, giving an alluring charm to his face.

I felt slightly nervous as I stretched my hand toward him; nervous that his lips would attempt to kiss the bare skin of my hand, and regretting that I did not wear gloves.

"Miss Swan," Edward softly squeezed my hand. He had velvet notes in his voice that made his word to seem mocking. All my fears vanished at the instant, replaced by a unexpected disappointment

"Please, call me Bella" I corrected, still not able to understand why the fact that he had barely shook my hand, upset me.

"Bella," he repeated, this time smiling slightly. Unfortunately, the smile only seemed to highlight the mocking that I sensed in his voice earlier.

Renee gave me a scolding look; no doubt, I made a fool of myself by making requests, before addressing and greeting as manners required.

Next to Edward stood a young lady, contrasted against him because of her short height. She had a heart shaped face that was framed with short, wavy layers and locks that fell on her rosy cheeks, and a small pout.

Could this be Mary Alice Brandon? The _little_ Alice?

She smiled, probably at the recognition that appeared on my face. Alice Brandon was a good childhood friend of mine and Rose's. Although Alice was her middle name, she insisted to be called by her middle name, as she absolutely loathed her first; somehow, Alice fitted better her character.

"I do remember you Bella," she hugged me.

"Alice, I am so glad to see you! You changed so much that I barely recognized you!"  
This evening certainly is going to be anything but dull, I thought.

"Isabella Marie, is that you?" grandma Lucille was claiming attention to herself.

"Grandmother," I kissed her on both cheeks, and sensed her familiar scent of lavender, " How do you do?"

"Dreadfully bad, my dear." she shook her head, "Ann, if you will be so kind, fill me a glass of port." Granny Lucille earned her deserved reputation and fame on family's gatherings due to her undying passion to alcohol.

"Would you like some tea beforehand, mother?" auntie tried to distract Gran.

"What kind of a hostess serves tea to her visitors?" Gran frowned unhappily, "Well, if you insist on tea, tell the maid to add some whiskey in it," the old woman fought to her last.

"Nana," I gently said trying to distract her. I knew how touched she was every time I called her 'Nana'.

"How is Poppy?" I asked carefully.

Since the death of grandpa, Nana, as the doctor informed Renee and Ann, had a mental breakdown and lost her mind. Nana left to another imaginative world she created for herself and raised walls around them, living in a safe haven where her beloved Paulie still lived and breathed. Alcohol made that world even more realistic to her; it was her own way of coping with her loss.

"Paulie visited me yesterday, and told me that I could wear the white hat to the wedding, just like I wore on ours, so I would be as lovely as the bride," her face brightened. "Remember how Paulie played the pianoforte and you sat by his side?" she recalled.

I scanned the room, to see others reactions.

Auntie left the room, probably to request the maid to put several drops of Valerian extract in tea, instead of whiskey, to calm Gran.

Emmett dared to hold Rose's hand and rub gently her shoulder now, as his future in-laws were absent from the scene.

Alice's face was full of deep sympathy, and Renee was on the verge of tears.

But Edward Masen was staring at me, with an uncertain emotion portrayed on his face, that I could not decipher; he seemed like he was trying to make a decision that he could not decide whether it would benefit him, or not.

"Ma'am," he suddenly approached Gran and me, "If you would kindly permit me, I can play the piano for you."

"Oh, you say you can play the piano young man?" her face brightened. " Isn't he is a fine lad, Isabella? Aye, do play for me, dear laddie."

I did not know what to reply, but this Edward lad did not seem to care much for my answer. He was merely helping me to distract Gran from demanding her long-awaited drink, and save her from revealing any further hallucinations of her that he probably sensed, could embarrass her has she had been in her right mind .

"It would be my pleasure, Ma'am," he addressed Gran, but his smile was directed at me, "Any do you have particular requests?"

"Chopin," I blurted, "if you would be so kind," I added quickly. This was the second time I spoke, without thinking at all, to him. Apparently, he finds me to be a manner-less, foolish girl, but he looked like he did want to offer me some help with Gran. Seriously, what was wrong with me today?

He nodded and went to sit by the black grand piano.

I recognized immediately the first notes he hit; Chopin, Opus 28, No. 15, rather known as the "Raindrops" prelude. I was not an expert in classics. I just knew well my favorite pieces.

The sun was beginning to set behind the french windows and shone in its full glory; twilight hour was approaching fast.

The sunlight set Edward's head aflame, and the locks on his forehead were ablaze with fire.

Very Charming.

I listened eagerly to the melody; it was light and easy, though I knew that the middle part would become dark and dramatic for awhile. I made a mental note to myself to remember to ask him why he chose to play this particular composition; it reminded me of a sunny day with a sudden, unexpected, light rain that brought clouds. As the melody progressed to the dramatic middle part, it portrayed how the light rain was gradually increasing, showering the streets with strenght.

Near the end, the angry notes ceased and the melody softened, similar to a rainy shower that passed, and the sun was rolling out of the clouds, brightening and shining upon the wet earth.

Gran sighed beside me, as if she agreed with my thoughts. I sighed along with her as I tried to arrange the words and phrases in my head that could describe how much I have been touched by the melody.

Suddenly, I felt greatly insignificant; I wished I could play like that, touching hearts and souls, stirring an ocean of emotions at the same time.

***

Dinner was served at half past seven; the cook served tonight pea soup, sirloin with mushrooms, carrots with gravy, and a trifle for dessert.

The arrangement of seats around the table, as I suspected, was a careful plan of Uncle George. First impressions were faulty; the man had eyes of a hawk, when it came to serious matters, especially if such matters concerned the well-being of darling daughter.

Uncle George sat at the head on the table, and could observe under his all-seeing eyes. He was no fool; he knew well what was going between Rose and Emmett. Poor Emmett was seated at the corner, by uncle's left hand. Charlie was seated across from Emmett, as if he was helping uncle's plan.

It appeared to be rather odd, but Emmett the brave certainly knew how to face his opponents, answering briefly every single questions that uncle darted at him.

Auntie Ann sat across from uncle, at the other end of the table. Her eyes were no less observant than uncle's, so auntie placed Rose on her left side and Gran to her right, across from Rose. Obviously, poor Goldilocks was not happy with such arrangement, and her face betrayed her disappointment.

Renee sat beside me, Charlie next to her. Alice sat across from Renee, next to Emmett, curiously analyzing every face that was seated at the table.

I sat next to Rose, and tried to comfort her with my presence. The only thing that bothered me was that Edward Masen was seated right across me.

And he was staring at me.

I nearly choked with the soup.

* * *

**AN:**

**Little history moments**: Bathing machines were popular in Britain in 19th century. They were carriages on wheels covered with canvas, in order to allow people wade in seas and oceans, without violation modesty notions of the Victorian society. The segregation of bathing machines in Britain ended in 1901.

Chopin's opus 28 was first recorded on 78 rmp records, in 1926.

**Review, if you please :)**


	5. Chapter 4

**AN: **I finally updated my blank profile page and some links for the previous chapters of 'War, Peace, and Love' were posted. Make sure to visit them!

This is probably the chapter everyone had been waiting for. I apologize that I made chapters 1-2 so long, and deprived everyone of our beloved Edward. I just wanted to give Bella some spotlight, and introduce her reasoning and thoughts, since most of the chapters will be set from her points of view.

**I am going to try to compensate everyone with this chapter, so I filled it with some 'Edward moments' :)**

Trying to describe Edward is like trying to describe colors to a person who's blind; it is nearly impossible. I edited this chapter at least seven times, before I was satisfied woth it, so please tell me whether I did a good (or bad) job.

**T****his shout-out goes to sportress: many thanks for choosing this story as a favorite!**

**A special thank-you goes to a loyal reviewer- manda2784.**

**Disclaimer: **I do NOT own Twilight. Most of the characters in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer.

* * *

**Songs:**

Carter Burwell- **Phascination Phase.  
**-What could fit better the opening of this chapter, if not this famous piece from a the most watched movie of this year :)

Aqualung- **Strange and Beautiful (I'll put a spell of on you).  
**-A favorite of mine. It has everything: the lyrics, the melody, nice vocal, and it suits Bella and Edward in this chapter.

Yiruma- **Kiss The Rain.  
**-A nice and easy listening piano tune.

* * *

**Chapter 4:**

For the rest of the evening, I could not avert my eyes from Edward.

Over and over, I found myself tracing the contours of his face with my eyes, and charting a road map of his facial symmetry. I studied his face, carefully examining each part and detail: the emerald-green of the eyes, the straight line of the nose, the angle of high cheekbones, the moisture on his lips...

I searched for any clues, or hints that could unveil me the answer to the question: who was this stranger before me?

The unexplained masculine grace of his that I observed earlier this afternoon, his confidence, and the intelligence that reflected in his words, gave him a character of an antagonist taken from a novel. If antagonists from novels could come alive, he could be mistaken for a one.

It was hard for my mind to perceive that he could speak in such a charming low voice; that his chest rose and lowered with each breath he took, and most of all, hard to perceive that someone who resembled more a fictional antagonist rather than a real person, was indeed a human of flesh and blood, and sat directly in front of me.

He caught me staring at him, and smiled to himself a crooked smile. I dropped my gaze in shame, feeling a jolt of sparks that stroke me partially with fear, and partially, with an exhilarating thrill.

I found him to be very intimidating. I even admit that at some point, I even feared him. I feared his perfection. And yet, as much as I felt intimidated, I wanted to gain his admiration. Never ever before I wanted to impress someone as much as I wanted to impress this stranger, and if it was possible, to befriend with him.

I envied his charisma. I was jealous of his ability to charm everyone who was in his presence. I wished I could take away any breath, just like he had taken mine, though I knew this certainly would not happen. Next to him, I was as plain as as a shadow.

At some point, I sensed his foot hitting mine beneath the table. Sparks flew everywhere again.

I carefully raised my eyes, only to find him composed as he was cutting his food in silence, his face very calm. Nor, did he apologize for hitting my foot, whether that action was intended or not. Was it a subliminal warning he tried to give me so I would stop staring at him?

The wine I drank earlier, no doubt, was hitting my head. My imagination ran amok wildly, playing games with my perception.

Did he really stared at me earlier? Had his foot really touched mine? I wished that I did not drink; the sensations were too real that I could not really distinguish what was real, and what was not.

No, I only imagined everything, while the truth was that he did not stare at me, or touched my foot at all. My imagination often tended to play games with my perception.

I only imagined everything because I _did _want him to stare at me. I _did _want his foot to touch mine, even if it was by accident.

Consumed in my thoughts, I barely touched the food. I did no want to eat, moreover, to make a fool of myself with the clumsiness I was blessed with.

I scanned the other occupants that gathered around the table, trying to distract myself from Edward for awhile.

"Mr Masen, I must say the composition you played earlier, was most excellently performed," Renee complimented Edward, " How long have you been playing the piano?"

"Thank you Mrs Swan. I have been playing for nearly eleven years."

"Pray, what is your age, young man? You cannot be older than twenty," Grandma Lucille could not afford being left out of any conversation that she did not take part in.

Grandma Lucille, unlike the visitors, felt at home. She was the the company's spirit, and provided the talking all the times, questioning and probing everyone, ensuring that each pair of cheeks would get its turn to bloom with blush.

"No Ma'am, I will turn nineteen this June."

"Do tell us a little about yourself Edward," Renee encouraged.

"As you see Mrs Swan, music is something I am very passionate about." He hesitated for awhile. "I attended the London Oratory school. Recently, I was admitted to the Royal Academy of Music. Meanwhile, I gave music lessons," he stated in an indifferent tone, as if he was recalling historical facts.

"Edward is the protege of Dr and Mrs Cullen," Alice's little voice chimed in.

A wave of murmurs passed the table.

Edward lowered his head, concentrating on the slicing the food in his plate, still wearing the calm expression on his face, though I knew better that he was not in ease from the sudden spotlight that rested on him. He did not seem to be very willing to tell about himself. The bare details that he provided already let his listeners know that he would reveal no more. I could sympathize him.

"Really?" Charlie suddenly looked interested, " Did you refer to Dr Carlisle and Mrs Esme Cullen, miss Brandon?"

"Indeed, these are the ones," she smiled," I assume we have mutual acquaintances, Mr Swan."

Charlie and Uncle George were old friends with Dr Cullen. Dr Cullen frequently visited our house in Ealing, and treated the family in times of illness. I rarely met Mrs. Cullen, but the few times I met to her, I was impressed with her kindness and beauty.

Dr Cullen was one of the few people who earned Charlie's respect and trust, so the protege of Dr Cullen certainly had to possess some extraordinary talents, and this captured Charlie's attention.

"You patron is very good friend of mine," Charlie turned to Edward. "One of the best doctors in the London. You could not ask for a better, or a mightier patron than Dr Cullen, Edward."

"I know how fortunate I am, Mr Swan. Dr and Mrs Cullen had been very supportive and caring of me. I dare to say, I owe Dr Cullen my life."

"Have you got no family lad?" Grandma Lucille inquired after Edward's background.

I observed that Gran did manage to get her long awaited glass of port after all, and heavens know what tricks or charms the old woman applied to get it. And whenever she did, she tended to ask her questions openly, not sweetening her words with politeness, making her points clear.

"No Ma'am," he answered patiently, " my parents passed away long time ago."

Silence rested on the table for awhile. Trust and leave it to Grandma Lucille to embarrass the whole family.

My voice trembled. "I am sure they would have been very proud of you had they heard you play today," I gathered some poor scraps of confidence and spoke first.

_Had they saw the man you have become_, I thought to myself, not daring to speak such words out loud.

"Thank you, Miss Swan. I could not ask for a better compliment," his smile was not crooked this time, but it revealed two dimples.

_Success success_; I made him smile.

"Will Dr and Mrs Cullen be attending the wedding?" Rose asked.

"Yes, they most certainly will," Emmett smiled at her. He looked carefully at everyone to ensure that the dinners were preoccupied with the contents of their plates, and when he saw that no one was looking, he winked at Rose.

A sharp '_hrrmm_' came from Uncle's George direction.

"Have you choked on the mushrooms, Sir?" Emmett patted on his future father- in-law's back, with concern.

"No worries, I am alright. _Thank you, Emmett_," uncle was the shade of a ripened tomato

A funny, gurgling noise sounded by my right side.

Rose snickered into her wine goblet and snorted, spilling a decent amount of the burgundy liquid on the napkin that rested in her lap.

***

The visitors were urged to stay at the Hales'. Auntie did not allow her guests to check in at the local inn, insisting and saying that it would be an insult to her if they would decline her invitation and her hospitality.

Tea and coffee were served, and card tables were opened in the living room.

The party broke into two teams: Renee, Charlie, George, and Ann. Emmett and Rosalie teamed together with Alice and Gran. I declined cards, opting to invest my time in reading instead. It had not escaped my attention that Edward did not take part in cards as well.

"Edward, you may play the piano if you desire," Auntie suggested, seeing that her guest had nothing to occupy himself with.

Edward sat not afar from me, his gaze focused on the black grand piano.

"I do your ladyship," he hesitated. "Miss Swan," he suddenly turned to me, "as much as I would like to play, I am afraid it would bother you and disturb your reading."

"Oh, not at all," I was taken by surprise that he was concerned about bothering me. " I will be delighted to hear you play again."

"Do you have any particular requests this time miss?"

"Surprise me," I said, daring to be bold.

He did not expect such an answer, and looked very surprised. " I will try," he smiled his crooked smile.

_Success success, and another small one_, I smiled to myself.

Though I did not recognize the composition he chose to play this time, the melody was slow, sweet and harmonic. He seemed to be quite content that he had been a task to occupy himself with.

I went back to my reading, or tried to go back to reading, to be precise.

Edward turned to be right: I could not concentrate on my reading at all. I read a small paragraph, only to discover at the next paragraph that I could not recall anything from what I have from the earlier one.

For a shame, it was 'Pride and Prejudice' that I held in my hands!

I pretended to read for few minutes, barely looking at the pages, and peeking occasional glances at the figure who sat behind the grand piano. It was not the music that bothered me; it was the urge I had: to watch the talented pianist who was playing so delicately.

I closed the book, and place it on the coffee table. I could not sit, so I began to pace fro and back through the living room, passing each time closer by the grand piano.

Edward watched me, following every step I took with his emerald-green eyes.

"Does the music bother you miss Swan?" he asked triumphantly, as if he knew that his predictions were confirmed when I passed really close by the piano this time.

"Not at all Mr Masen," I quickly tried to think of a good excuse that could explain my behavior. " I find taking turns around the room to be refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude," I nearly laughed as quoted from the scene I suddenly remembered reading few minutes earlier from 'Pride and Prejudice'. It fit the moment very well.

"You may sit next to me if you are restless, miss Swan. I promise that I will not bite you," he added quietly.

"I do not trust you Mr Masen; you proved earlier to me that you cannot keep promises," I decided to tease him back.

His face fell. "When did I omit the misfortune of losing you trust miss Swan?"

I placed a stool by his side. He watched me the whole time with a puzzled expression.

"I recall I asked you earlier to call me Bella," I explained.

The lines around his face smoothed and relaxed as his smiled at the joke. "I will keep my promise this time, but only if you will call me 'Edward' in turn, _Bella_," he fought for his fallen dignity.

My heart skipped a beat as he pronounced every syllable in my name.

"So in few words, are we friends again?" I lost my battle with honor.

"Friends," he rewarded me with a crooked smile. " Though we are only at the beginning of our friendship, I am glad to become friends with you, Bella."

It was nice to know that he considered me as a friend. I mentally patted my shoulder for the progress I managed to make, trying not to obsess too much with the way he pronounced 'we are'.

We sat in silence for few minutes. Oddly, it was somehow very comfortable to be with him, and not need to fill every moment with a small dialogue. The music that emerged from the piano, spoke better that thousands words could.

I looked at his long fingers sliding across the white and black keys, and the skin of the back of his hands, which flexed and stretched with each note; fascinated that it took only a pair of hands to produce something so lovely. As silly as it sounded, I wished that I could place my hands beneath his, and allow his hands to guide mine across the keyboard.

"Do you play the piano Bella?" he asked as he saw me staring at his hands, "We could perform a duet."

"No," I regretted that I gave up the lessons I forced to take as child. I never had enough patience. "I can only wish I could play like you do."

"I believe that every one is capable to play as good as I do."

"No," I disagreed, looking at the pair of hands that floated on the keys. "Though playing the piano may appear to look like a simple enough task to perform, I know it takes years upon years of practice."

"There is some truth in your words," he admitted, "but I also believe that it is the desire and love of music that determine how far a simple amateur would go, before he would become a true performer. One should strive to conquer not only the instrument itself, but also try to interpret the music, similar to an artist interpreting an artwork, and unveil the scenery, or the emotions hidden within the notes of the composition."

"Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to be able to play my favorite compositions with my own hands, when I visualize myself in front of a piano" I admitted.

He smiled at me. "I cannot describe what it would feel like for you, but it might feel like you have conquered something undefeatable. Each time I get improved at playing some complicated composition, or compose a new one, I feel like I can conquer anything, even my darkest fears."

The last notes of the composition echoed, and ceased as he spoke those words. Another composition was conquered.

"Who wrote this composition? "

"I did," he said, grinning like child caught in the middle of mischief.

"Really? When?"

"Very Recently."

"How recently does very recently mean?"

"The truth? Only few minutes ago. Often inspirations come along when I expect them least," he confessed.

"How?"

"I began to compose this piece few months ago. It seemed to be fair, but I was not satisfied with it. Some major parts of it were missing, and I did not know where to look for them, or what I was looking after, to be exact. I could not complete the end of the composition. It remained to be untouched and incomplete, not played for months. Then all of sudden, while I was looking at the piano few moments ago, I suddenly understood what was missing in this composition, and I knew what its end would sound like."

"What inspired you so suddenly, if I may ask? " I was burning with curiosity. It certainly has to be something special that inspired him and made him able to finish the composition he could not complete in months.

"Can you keep secrets Bella?" he asked quietly.

He began to play another melody on purpose, to mask our, suddenly very private, conversation.

"Yes," I whispered.

"You did."

My cheeks burned like a straw caught aflame.

***

"Edward was staring at you the whole evening!" Goldilocks exclaimed once we were in our bedroom.

"Shh, Wosie, let the others sleep peacefully."

The last thing I needed is that Edward hearing the gossips of the three fair maidens, and it could not be very inspirational for any further, good compositions.

"Bella, I have never seen Edward so open and talkative to someone," little Alice rolled on the additional bed that was place in the guest room for her. "Usually, he is a very private and close person."

"So I have noticed," I remembered the indifference in his voice when he told very few details about his past earlier.

"You sat together, obviously looking very comfortable together, like a pair of snug doves. The cards table was apparently not private enough for you," Rose practically burned me with a pair of her sapphire eyes.

"How dare you Rosalie Hale! I have only met him, and we only discussed music! " I was outraged. "You read too much romance novels. Have a better look you at yourself, mademoiselle, and make sure to bring along your vanity mirror: you were the one who snorted into her wine glass and spilt a decent amount of it on yourself and just because your darling of fiance flirted with you, right below your daddy's nose. So who is the fool in love here, me or you?"

"Oh, I did hear someone snorting at the table, except that I thought it was Sir Hale choking on his mushrooms," Alice roared with a loud laugh.

"Ooh la la, _mon cherié_, are not you too smart for you own good? I shall prove you that victory shall be mine, le belle Swan!" Rose threw a pillow, right into my face.

"Rosalie Hale, I do hereby declare a war!" I grabbed the nearest pillow within my reach. Only that I was bad at selecting my target, and hit little Alice instead.

"Count me in," Alice was thrilled to start a pillow-fight.

We spent few good minutes grabbing the pillows and hitting each other, until feathers flew everywhere in the room, and we fell exhausted on the beds.

Rose and Alice fell asleep fast. I was not as lucky as them; I turned in the bed, shifting from one side to another frequently. I tried to find some comfortable spot, thinking thousand thoughts in per minute.

"_So in few words, are we friends again?"_

"_Friends_," the crooked smile was not as dazzling in my flashback, " _Though we are only at the beginning of our friendship, I am glad to become friends with you, Bella..._"

Another flashback:

_"What inspired you so suddenly, if I may ask? "_

_"Can you keep secrets Bella?" _

_"Yes." _

_"You did..."_

The last two words echoed in my mind repeatedly. I shifted restlessly, and kicked the blanket with my feet.

My interaction with Edward would be good as long as it would last. After the wedding is over, Edward and I would go on separate ways. He does not need friends like me; he can has someone more worthy of being his friend than I am. As plain as I was, he would forget me soon, and I would never see him again. There was no need to raise false expectations and preoccupy the mind with foul hopes like these.

And yet, why such deep sadness filled me as I thought these thoughts?

Our friendship will be over, unless ...

"_I cannot describe what it would feel like for you, but it might feel like you have conquered something undefeatable... I feel like I can conquer anything, even my darkest fears..." _

I smiled as a simple, and yet a brilliant idea came to me. I finally closed my eyes, eager to fall asleep, so the morning would begin sooner.

***

Jasper returned home the next day.

I barely recognized him; he looked very mature in his navy uniform, and his blond hair was very messy, though the sparks in his eyes assured me that it was still Jas 'the old ass'. I tried to hide my swollen eyes when he wrapped me in a huge hug, like the old, big brother I never had, and messed my hair teasingly.

Auntie was ecstatic with joy, and I could understand her: now the whole family was gathered together, and a wedding was expected to take place soon in just few days.

The next three days passed really fast, and I still could not find enough courage to execute my plan. The task was pretty simple: talk to Edward, and ask him whether he would be able to give me several private piano lessons.

I was never alone, always in company of Rose and Alice, or some other witnesses. The shyness of my nature did not help much either. Neither did I get my chance to revisit the beach again. With the upcoming wedding there were many tasks to be done.

The poor maids cleansed every spot in the villa, for the after ceremony party. Silverware was scrubbed and polished, and plates were stacked in high pillars at the kitchen. The carpets were cleaned, the wooden staircases and the parquet floors were waxed, and the marble floors became were slippery wet, shining more than even, nearly sparkling from beams of light that fell on them.

The garden and the backyard underwent a treatment no less significant than the house. The gardeners tirelessly slouched their backs above the flowers patches, scratching their hands with the thorns of the roses; they trimmed the grass, polished the statues, and cleansed the fountains.

The gentlemen of the house helped outdoors, hanging the paper lanterns around poles that marked a large square where the celebration would take place, and hid miniature fairy- lights among the flowers.

Auntie and Renee supervised the work, mostly giving orders. They went over the plans of the menu and the seating arrangement, and made flower arrangements.

Alice and I, as the future bridesmaids, assisted the bride to be.

We helped Rose to clean her savaged room that was invisible beneath magazines, fabrics, clothes, and trunks. With Alice's advice and great taste in fashion, we sorted Rose's clothes, and planned outfits for her honeymoon trip, discarding clothes that were in poor conditions, or as Alice stated, were 'out of fashion'.

Rose was not really happy that she could not take the entire content of her wardrobe with her, but at least she appreciated our help, and let us take the remaining unused fabrics we liked for ourselves. I selected a lovely shining burgundy silk, and some of the infamous french lace, while Alice chose several dozens of fabrics.

Now it was a pleasure to look at Rose's room that practically sparked from tidiness, neatness, and the elegance that was restored.

Alice borrowed some unused flowers from Renee and auntie. She separated the buds from the petals, and dried them in the sunshine for several hours. She went to the town and bought several oils in the pharmacy, and created lovely potpourri bowls that smelled divinely or jasmines, orange-blossoms, freesia, and some other smells I could not tell what they were made of.

The whole house filled with sweet, floral scents and uncle George tended to joke that his villa smelled like a tart-house. When this joke reached auntie's ears, she flew on him with scolds, wondering how in heavens name he knew what tart houses were supposed to smell like.

The bride-to-be was hysterical with laugh when she heard the conversation between her parents. Alice and I even had to drag her to the bathroom and wash her face with ice-cold water. For a very long time, Rose could not calm down, and laugh-tears streamed on her cheeks. Every time she passed a potpourri bowl, laugh spasms attacked her, and she laughed like the village's fool.

Auntie did not understand Rose's behavior, thinking it were the nerves that made Rose hysterical, so she secretly ordered me and Alice to add some Valerian extract drops into Rose's cup of water that was placed on her bed-stand. Of course, we did not do anything of the sort, and let Rose's laughter fill the house with joy. I admit that Alice and I were infected with the laugh and happiness.

Rarely, I have been in such merry spirits, as I was these days.

Caught between the chaos, the noises, and constant work, I rarely had time to think of Edward. I saw him only during meal times, and in the evenings when the family gathered in the living room to relax after a full day, and play cards or domino.

Edward rarely played cards or domino, giving preference to sit in the corner, and entertain us with his music. Whenever he did join a game, I avoided sitting very close to him. I did not want to raise any, particularly Rose's, suspicions. I still felt intimidated by Edward, as much as I wanted to take some steps to get closer to him, and get to know him better.

This made me very frustrated with myself, but every time I tried to approach him and say something, I felt that a lump was stuck in my throat. My cheeks burned, and my heart beats accelerated so rapidly they almost hurt me, and deafened my ears.

Each evening, ten faces gathered in the living room. Among all of them, the loveliest one belonged to the one who sat nearly all the time by the grand piano, which occasionally glanced my way with a pair of beautiful emerald- green eyes.

_Are not we friends, after all_? his glance seemed to ask me.

_No_, I wanted to say. _I just realized that I cannot be friends with you; not when I desire something greater and forbidden than friendship is. _

_

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_

**AN:** **Trying to describe Edward is like trying to describe colors to a person who's blind; it is nearly impossible. So review, please!**


	6. Chapter 5

**AN: **My apologies for delaying with this chapter! Summer school had resumed, and I found myself drowning in between calculus's textbooks chapters.  
However, I spared few minutes every day to edit and polish this chapter, just for the sake of my readers.

All those of you who are reading the story, rock my world! I can't say how happy I am to see the numbers of hits rise on this story's chart.

this special Thank-You goes to **Manda2784**, who always leaves me a nice review and encourages me to progress with the story!

**Disclaimer: **I do NOT own Twilight. Most of the characters in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. However, I do own a stack of Egyptian Tarot cards :)

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**Songs:**

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky **-** the Nutcracker suite: **Arabian Dance**.  
-A truly beautiful classic. I highly recommend to listen to it while reading the second part of this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 5:**

Alice, Rose and I held a bachelorette party in Rose's room. It was one of our last, girls-only evenings that we would spend together. In two more days, Rose would become a married woman, and would no longer be a single maiden. I felt a little sad, sensing that that our triad would soon break apart, and the 'three young maidens' would exist no more.

Alice insisted on holding beauty rituals. Rose compromised that in return, Alice would to open and read her Tarot cards for us. I wanted no beauty rituals and no cards reading, but the two of them clasped my wrists like hawks, threatening to give me beauty rituals every day, as long as I shall live.

First, they spread my face with honey and oatmeal mask, and we laid on the bed next to each other as our faces dried. Later, we soaked our hands in bowls filled with rose-water and citrus peels, to soften the skin, and Alice skillfully filed our nails with a pumice stone.

When the torture ritual was over, we lit candles and patchouli incense, and spread pillows on the floor. Alice pulled a bottle of wine and glass flutes beneath the bed. The pixie sneaked them from the kitchen. I disapproved, but Goldilocks shushed me.

"Trying to distract us, Pixie? You are not getting away this time," Rose smirked.

The pixie scoffed and spread a wooden board on the floor. She pulled out a stack of Egyptian Tarot cards from a silk, and like a gypsy shaman, tied the scarf around her head.

Predicting the future, was something that Alice was unusually gifted with. She rarely showed her talent and refused to open the cards. The future was not set in stone, as she explained once, and she could only glimpse into the circumstances that would surround the events that were about to happen.

Yet, Alice disliked tempering with curiosity; it was an strong source of power that granted her an access to a rare knowledge that could be overwhelming.

She tossed the cards in her hands.

"You may laugh at me Rose, but I don't like the feeling I have tossing these cards. I don't like it at all."

"Alice, they are only cards..."

"Nevertheless doubt their power!" Alice dramatically closed her eyes.

"Nice spectacle, gypsy queen. Alright, give me the fastest and the most simple reading you can do."

"Then it shall be the three cards spread for you, wanderer. First, silently ask the question in your head. Then toss the cards well as long as you feel necessary, and choose three cards."

Rose tossed and placed three cards on the wooden board.

"The fool, knight of wands, ace of pentacles..." Alice mumbled to herself as she opened the cards.

"What does this mean?" Rose stirred on her pillow, impatient to hear the answer, "are these good or bad cards?"

"Well, there is fool on the card, which means that you are a fool if you believe in this, Wosie," I laughed at her.

A pillow wheezed past my ear, and another one smacked me in the face. "Be quiet, Jingle Bells."

"It depends on how you choose to interpret the cards," Alice's voice was dramatic. "The fool symbolizes new opening- endless opportunities and options, what means that you are only in a beginning of your path.

"Knight of wands," at that point Alice smiled mischievously, "could points to either an exciting trip, to an exotic place, or to someone who can 'tilt the windmill'. The person represented by this card is a charismatic leader, never slows down, and is _wild_ by his nature. This figure represents someone who is headstrong, a little bit narcissistic, and will come up with the craziest of ideas. Do not expect him to be reliable, but he shall remain to be fiercely loyal to those he loves.

Goldilocks rolled to her stomach and leaned on the arms, cupping her chin between her hands. "That's my man," she smiled from ear- to-ear.

"Then you have the ace of pentacles- there is a new hope or possibility in your future. It is your decision to make whether to use it or leave it behind, but solid physical work awaits. If you earn your coin, place it safely in your pocket ."

"Alice, what coin would I need, when I can have chests filled with gold?"

"Silly Goldilocks- it is only metaphorically speaking," Alice rolled her eyes. "Not all of us are born to be the daughters of wealthy bankers."

She restocked the cards. "Bella, it is your turn. What spread of cards would you like?"

"Alice, I don't know," I hesitated.

I was not sure whether I wanted to know what my future held for me.

"Do a detailed reading for her," Rose intervened.

"Let's try the Celtic Cross spread," Alice suggested. "Do not worry Bella," she assured me when she saw the face I made, "The cards rather give an advice how to deal with particular circumstances, instead of revealing what exactly will happen," and she handed me the cards.

I took the cards. I felt silly tossing them and yet, I felt somewhat scared, feeling the heaviness of the stack and touching the solid, sharp edges of the cards. As I moved my hands across the stack, I got a paper-cut. This definitely could not a good sign; I was prone to have thirty-three unfortunate events to fall on my head.

"Toss them well. You are going to choose ten cards, and I will point to you where to place them," Alice instructed.

I placed the card where Alice pointed on the board, and got a cross-shaped arrangement from the spread cards. Alice asked me to open each card carefully.

Hesitating, I slowly opened each card, and observed the card that laid before me:

Two cups, the moon, a knight with a cup, a princess holding a disk, the tower, judgement day, a king with a cup, an empress, and a star.

They had strange names; moreover, the moon, the tower and the judgement day cards had very strange, unpleasant drawings portrayed on them.

I awaited Alice's reaction.

A shade crossed her face. "This is quite a challenging spread," she held her gaze on one card, her face full of concern.

I looked at the tenth card.

When I rested my eyes upon it, I was sure that I did not want Alice to continue to read the cards; among all the drawing portrayed on the cards, this one was probably the worst. Even Rose gasped.

"Bella, this is certainly not what you are thinking," Alice's voice was calm, "this card has a different meaning than what its object represent in real life. It means only means change and renewal. You are holding one of the best cards- the star; you could not ask for a better card for the final outcome of events. And you have a very strong ally you are not aware of: the king of cups. He is known as "the godfather" among all the card. The empress next to him even grants more protection to you, and along with the princess of pentacles and two of cups..." Alice eyes became the size of saucers. "Yes, how could I not see that there is a knight of cups! Oh my, is it what I am thinking?!" she squealed.

"What? What? Let me see! Tell us Alice!" Rose flung her elbows everywhere.

"Alice, I want to stop the reading," I protested.

"No, you cannot do that to us!" Rose yelled.

"I understand Bella," Alice nodded," but remember that first impressions can be faulty. The future is not set in stone. There is always hope. Only you can manifest your destiny and handle fate."

"But,_ I_ do want to know what does the princess of pentacle means being next to the empress and the two of cups!" Rose protested. "I should have chosen the Celtic Cross spread, had I knew better!"

"It is curiosity that killed the cat, dear Goldilocks," Alice shook her head. "Besides, it is an ill omen to read the cards more than once a day

"Please Alice," Rose begged, clutching little Alice by shoulders " at least you can tell _me_!"

"It is alright, Alice. You may tell her, whatever is it," I spared Alice from Goldilocks's claws.

I observed how Rose's own eyes turning the size of saucers, as Alice leaned and whispered something rapidly in her ears.

"No way!" Rose exclaimed. "Bella wait until you hear that you ar..."

"La la la," I placed my hands on my ears, ready to stick out my tongue at Rose, if it would be necessary.

"Silly girl," Rose had a smile of a fool, "well Alice, let her be miserable as long as it takes for her for that to happen."

"It is her choice Rose, not yours" Alice defended me.

Rose opened the cork of the wine bottle with her teeth, and poured wine into the glasses.

"To Bella," she toasted, "and her..."

I raised one eyebrow to warn Rose.

"And her most loyal sisters," Rose smirked.

***

Somewhere afar, a clocked chimed twelve times, announcing midnight.

I lay restless on the bed, lost in thoughts.

_Silly cards and silly girls who who nearly fed me with wine... _

My head felt very heavy. I fought the urge, but I wanted to escape from the room for awhile. I knew the villa had a nice, grand balcony that overlooked the garden, located few steps away down the corridor from the room Alice, Rose and I slept in.

Whenever I could not sleep at home, I sneaked to the balcony to gaze at the stars. Renee often complained that I sneaked like a ghost around the corridors.

Nightly walks around the house fascinated me. The stillness of a dark silence that made my heart pound heavily and yet, as creepy as these walks were, I liked the thrill I felt when I walked the eerie, long, moon-lit corridors. I grew up, but the habit of walking on sleepless nights, remained.

I scaled the two options I had: I could either remain in the room and waste several good hours without sleep but not get caught, or I could escape out from the room, with a pounding head, knowing that at any moment I could wake up someone.

Two voices argued and debated in my head:

_-No, it is better to stay safe and warm in the bed. We can wake everyone..._

_-I am going anyways; I cannot sleep._

I groaned, and kicked the blanket away. _That is it! I am going! _

I grabbed the silk robe and with my feet, tapping lightly the freezing-cold floor with my feet in search after slippers. Stepping as silently as I could, I peeked at Alice and Rose' faces.

The light snores that rose and fell, assured me that it was safe to execute the plan.

I reached the vanity table, and grazed the surface in search after the matches box. The box rested just beside the candle holder. A blue flame flickered as I lit the candle, and I hastened to shield the soft yellow light that suddenly cast gigantic shadows around the room.

"I am betting on you Bella!" someone spoke behind me.

I froze.

It was only Alice, who turned over in her sleep, mumbling something intangible.

I stood still for few second. When no further reaction came from her, I felt my stiffened body relax, and I breathed with relief.

The hardest part was to open the creaking door; I pushed the silver handle very slowly and sneaked out like a thief, leaving the door slightly ajar.

_Carpe Noctem, _I punned on the Latin expression; _Seize the night._

Fortunately, the corridor was wide enough, and there were not any objects I could knock down in my walk. The eye-piercing, pitch-black darkness of the corridor dissolved wherever I stepped.

The balcony 's door was not locked. Someone's dark silhouette already stood outside, and the figure was leaning on the marble rails, facing me backward.

_Edward..._

I gasped, and the flame of the candle burned out, leaving a long, thin plumes of smoke. I turned around to leave, but apparently, I was not fast enough.

Edward turned away from the rails and stood by the door, before I could blink.

We stared at each other several seconds, not breaking a single word.

"Isabella?" he sounded confused, as he realized it was only me that stood in the dark. "What are you doing here?"

"Excuse me, Edward. Please do not think that I intended to intrude upon you. I could not fall asleep, so I wanted to step outside for awhile, " I mumbled quickly.

Embarrassed, I tried to wrap my arms around myself to cover myself. I still had my senses, despite the wine consumed earlier. For a shame, I stood only in a robe and a nightgown before a stranger. Not just a stranger, but _Edward_, among all the strangers I could encounter with.

"Let me see again if I understood you right: you are sneaking like a thief around the house in such ungodly hour because you could not sleep?"

The gentleman that he was, he obviously tried not to laugh at the absurd explanation I had just given him, but I could see the line of his mouth crooking in a smile.

I could kiss goodbye any further chances to impress him, but as long as I was in deep waters, I might as well do it properly to explain the absurd situation.

"If you are smart Edward, you would take my advice and avoid any cuckoo bachelorettes. Them folks are a dangerous lot: they nearly fed me with the wine and forced me to listen to their old gypsy mullings, hypnotising me and telling me bullocks about some future that is not set in stone. They may in fact, be spying after me now"

He burst in laugh.

"I am sorry that you are finding this amusing. I drank a little, but let me assure you that I am not drunk. This is the sad truth," I was irritated. "Again, I am sorry for bothering you. Goodnight!"

I turned away, disappointed that my plans failed and I had to return to bed, only to spend further additional sleepless hours, with a drumming head .

"No, please stay," he said softly as he calmed down. "Though I have to say, it is rather chilly outside. And forgive me for being so rude. I was not laughing at you but rather laughing at the description of your friends."

I felt the irritation leaving me, and turned to him, as if his plea was a command.

"Are you sure that my presence will not bother you?"

"Not at all; sometimes it is rather nice to have someone to keep me a company."

One thing I should have already known about Edward: he was full of surprises.

We stepped outside; even for May, it was a chilly night.

"Here," he handed me a wool shawl that rested on one of the chairs.

"Thank you," I was grateful for him being so considerate.

He leaned once again on the marble rails, and wrapped his hands around himself.

I imitated his position, though I kept some distance from here. A decent lady should know her place and has values, after all. And there I stood: on a balcony, in an _ungodly _hour, as Edward put it; wearing only a shawl and a night-robe, _with_ a gentleman that I have known only for a few days_._ I would set such a nice example to any other young ladies.

"Beautiful, is it not?" Edward distracted me from my thoughts.

I pulled myself away from the train of thoughts, to look at whatever he referred to.

His face was stretched upwards toward the sky, his gaze focused on the stars.

It took few minutes to capture and absorb the picture of the scenery: the garden that stretched below with blue flowers and black bushes, the stars that were spread above them, and the quarter moon that casted soft light everywhere.

"It is very beautiful," I replied. "I knew that I could escape here. Since I was a child, I sneak outside and watch the stars whenever I cannot sleep."

"Old habits die slow," he chuckled.

" What are _you _doing here?"

" I could not sleep either," he smirked. "Well, you know what the folks say: 'Two boots make a pair'."

We stood silent for few moments, gazing at the stars.

The darkness and the sky seemed to be one, had it not been for the stars that shone and twinkled. It seemed that one could stretch a hand and wipe away some glitter of the stars that were scattered across the endless, velvet navy sky. I felt the drumming in my head weakening and slowly, my head became very light.

"Tell me what are you thinking of."

"Well," I was slightly startled as the silence broke,"I thought of the stars: they are so distant from us and yet, so they seem to be so close to us, illuminating the dark like some secret guides. It seems to me that if I could only stretch my hand far enough to reach the sky, I would be able to touch them. I wish I knew their names."

"I might try to help you with this quest," he offered.

He raised his head and began to mumble something to himself, pointing with his fingers in different directions, probably estimating in his mind the positions and the constellations of the stars.

"Here," he pointed with his index finger, " do you see these two bright stars that shine next to each other?"

"Yes."

"Well, these are Pollux and Castor- the Gemini. Can you observe how the stars form two twins that hold hands?"

I could not see any twins, or linked hands; I only saw many stars randomly spread around.

"No," I lowered my head in embarrassment.

"Look again, " he encouraged. "The two, bright stars shape the heads. If you will follow carefully the chain that forms by the little stars that are located beneath Pollux and Castor," he traced them with his index finger," you will be able to imagine how hands and legs form. Here, try to follow with your index finger."

I raised my right hand and tried to trace the chain of stars with my index finger, feeling very silly, as if I were trying to poke the sky.

"Here," he suddenly rested his hand on my hand to guide my own and traced the shape that the stars formed.

"Do you see now Bella?"

The air that escaped from his whisper, brushed my right ear, and the mellow melody of his voice melted my guts. His touch was very soft and gentle. The heat that radiated from his hand, sent familiar waves of anxiety diluted with the thrill of anticipation through my quivering body.

"Yes," I lied, floating somewhere towards the lands of euphoria.

It was hard to keep my breaths steady when he stood so close and touched me. The hell with those stars; No one would be able to think and hold their right minds, when someone so was

Slowly, he released my hand.

"Let's sit down, and I will name you several other stars," he offered.

_Pollux, Castor, Draco, Ursa Major and Ursa Minor ,Cancer constellation, Hercules, Lyra..._ Just few of the many he named, tracing and outlining their shapes to explain the meaning of their names. I only nodded, enjoying listening to the velvet tone in his voice. I could sit like this and listen for hours upon hours, as long as it was him that spoke.

"And this," he traced five stars with zig-zags that shaped like a 'W', " is Cassiopeia. "

"Isn't she a figure from the Greek mythology?"

"Yes. Have you heard of her legend?"

"You could tell me a night-time story," I suggested.

He smiled. "_Legends say, Cassiopeia, the wife of King Cepheus, was amongst the beautiful and the proud of women. She sacrificed her only daughter, Andromeda , to rescue her city from the serpent sent by the wrath of sea god, Poseidon, to punish Cassiopeia for her boastfulness. Andromeda was chained to a cliff that stood amidst a stormy sea, offered as a sacrifice to the monstrous serpent. As the waves of the stormy sea hit Andromeda's bare feet, she watched the serpent baring its sharp fangs, closing her eyes as she sensed death approaching... Along came the mighty Perseus, flying on his hermes' sandals. He slayed the villain serpent and rescued Andromeda from the fatal fate_.

"And so they live happily-ever- after," I laughed.

"Well, this is another story to tell, for another time.

"So you are not only a talented musician, but also a talented astronomer?"

"I am a man of many talents," he smiled, satisfied.

"Oh, please do not be so modest," I mocked. "However, your story-telling skills need some improvements."

"Are you telling me that you are a better story-teller than I am?"

"Them scary folks lot do not call me 'Scheherezade' for nothing."

"Well, _Scheherazade_, you could tell me a good story. After all, you have been telling them for thousands and one nights," he laughed.

Some uncertain, soothing warmth radiated from him. It was almost unbelievable how close he was and how closer we became tonight, overriding the barriers and the tensions of embarrassment and anxiety.

_But would I spoil the moment if I would dare to ask him if ..._

"Only if you will grant my request," I asked silently.

"I am more merciful than the evil Sultan, so I shall spare you. Ask, and it shall be given to you."

_Say it! Say it out, loud! _A voice roared in my head.

"I was wondering whether I may kindly request you to give me several piano lessons?"

His mouth line stretched into a crooked smile.

"Only if you will tell me the best among the stories you know."

I chose to tell him my favorite: 'Ala-ed-Din and the wonderful lamp'.

"_And the Ginni said to him:' Command what thou wilt, oh my master, for I am thy slave and the slave of him who possesseth the Lamp'..." _I abruptly stopped when I saw that Edward's eyes began to close.

"Edward?" I carefully shook his shoulder.

"Sing to me, Bella; sing me a lullaby, before we shall go back to our rooms," he asked quietly.

* * *

**AN: I threw you some clues and hints in this chapter! **I did not interpret many of Bella's cards on purpose, in order not to spoil and reveal the plot before time, although those of you who are good researches, may probably figure everything out ;) Any guesses what is it shown on the tenth card? Let me know your interpretations and guesses!

**Dare I ask for at least five reviews? The first five reviewers can make any recommendations that will posted in next chapter.**


	7. Chapter 6

**AN:** I just wanted to thank everyone who continued to check for updates daily and for your patience! Life just happened…no excuses.

These shout-outs go to **O0THEGIRLWHOWROTETHISFANFIC0O**, **sassycaps**, and to **manda2784 **who always gives the first reviews to every chapter. Thank you so much fellas!

**Disclaimer: **I do NOT own Twilight. Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

* * *

**Chapter 6:**

I have not realized that I lost myself in the song; I only stopped when I heard deep, even breaths rising and falling steadily.

Edward was asleep, eyes shut , no longer reflecting the many stars that shone in the endless sky above.

Hesitantly, I stretched a hand to wake him up.

Edward's face glowed dimly in the bare moonlight, shielded by an aura of serenity that illuminated him in a manner a halo illuminates an angel's figure. The long lashes around his eyes fluttered and relaxed, and his chest rose and fell rhythmically.

I lowered my hand. How could I take away the sleep of someone who was resting so peacefully?

How strange was it felt to be no longer intimidated by the intense stare of these emerald-green eyes… how odd was the sudden thrill to realize that I was at liberty to observe each aspect and line of his face as much as I wanted, without cowardly anticipating to be caught by his piercing glance that every time set every single fibre of my being aflame.

It seemed that I would never tire from retracing these symmetrical, soft facial lines I tried burn into my memory, forever if I could: the smooth and low forehead framed with slightly damp bronze locks, the thin rims of eyelids that were laced with thick, black eyelashes, the perfectly straight nose, the high cheekbones, these full red lips…

As I observed the sleeping face, it resembled no longer a mighty lion that I could fear, but an innocent lamb that I could pet and cuddle. The contrast between 'now' and 'then' was nearly laughable.

Edward shifted in his sleep, starting me unexpectedly; perhaps, he sensed how the silence around us grew tenser. He tilted his head aside in his sleep, and several locks fell on his forehead.

I held my breath, expecting him to wake up any moment.

And then, very hesitantly, I leaned forward and brushed away the locks from his forehead.

Nothing had happened.

There were no striking lightening; no roaming thunders; no shots fired; no applauds.

Absolutely nothing.

Except for the rapid beats of my heart, which seemed to echo everywhere.

_Dare I test my courage_?

I drew in a deep breath, and then very slowly, I stretched my hand and gingerly brushed with my fingertips one of Edward's cheeks.

How innocent and vulnerable was he in his sleep…

My fingertips moved farther, as if driven by an invisible attracting force, and fully cupped one of his warm, crimson cheeks.

I leaned my head against the back of chair, promising to myself that I would return back to my room in few minutes, meanwhile humming to myself another lullaby.

The last thing I remembered was floating in a warmth that wrapped me in a cocoon, as if a pair of hands were embracing me.

***

Someone was stroking softly my hand.

"Bella…" a velvet voice called my name, silky and mellow for my ears, just like the strokes that caressed my shoulder.

"Wake up Bella," the voice beckoned, and I felt a pair of hands lift me up.

I slowly opened my eyes.

Dawn indeed was breaking across the horizon's line and casted smooth yellow and orange strokes against the bluish-grey sky, slowly dissolving away the mist of the fog. Chill wind blew and caressed my cheeks and nose.

The hand that was wrapped around my shoulder, nudged me gently. The touch was careful, almost hesitant; so light and soft, as if a mere breeze was ruffling the sleeves of my robes, smoothing away the folds and creases of the fabric.

Yet, something felt wrong and out of place.

I did not return back to my bedroom that night.

Neither had Edward to his.

As soon as I began to grasp what was going on, I snapped from sleep and jumped to my feet.

_How long have I been here? How long was he stroking my shoulder until I woke up? Has anyone seen us here? _

My head felt dizzy from waking up so suddenly, but before I could fall, Edward caught me right on time.

"My apologies, I did not intend to scare you. Are you alright? " his voice distracted me, pulling me away from the rush of thoughts that flowed in my head like a river through a broken dam.

I nodded in embarrassment.

"I woke up earlier and I intended to wake you up as well," he spoke rapidly in a hushed tone, "but you slept so peacefully that I felt obliged to let you have few more hours of sleep. Did you rest well?"

His eyes were fixed upon mine, and studied me with seriousness and concern. I have not realized that we were still clutching each others arms.

My cheeks began to burn like straw caught aflame and my hands became moist.

"Yes," I whispered, not daring to avert my from his gaze.

"It's time," he still stared deep into my eyes, his voice was barely audible. "We cannot delay here-the dawn is breaking."

My mind went blank. I saw nothing but his emerald eyes, and heard nothing but the rushed breathes that escaped from our mouths.

"You must go Bella," he abruptly let off my hand, and I throbbed at the sense of the lost warmth. "Hurry up!"

I began to hyperventilate. _Tres merde and sacre bleu_.

I tried to envision the faces of Alice and Rose when they will find that I have been gone for several good hours, and when they will, I will be tortured by two chatterboxes that will put the Spanish inquisition to a shame… I silently offered a prayer that Rose and Alice were still unconscious, sleeping peacefully.

"And Bella?" he called at the last moment, as I were about to break in run toward the hallway.

My breath exhilarated as I turned around to face him though I did not know what exactly I was anticipating so heavily.

"You sang beautifully tonight. I look toward our piano lessons."

***

I was out of breath by the time I reached the door, clutching the cold handle of the door with one hand, and holding the other one above my heart. It drummed hyperactively under my palm, and my pulse was thudding in my ears.

I smiled to myself as that the door still remained slightly ajar; no one inquired after my absence, or even realized that I have been gone.

Sensing the nearing wave of relief, I tiptoed to the bed and was swarmed with delight when the overflowing wave of relief began to fill me as the soft pillow crackled beneath me when I finally rested my head against it.

***

After breakfast, the family gathered together in preparation for the final rehearsal of the wedding ceremony that was about to take place tomorrow at the garden of the Hales' villa.

The daily, dramatic saga from the life of inspector and Madame Swan was not prevented from enfolding, even during the tense times of preparation for the upcoming occasion.

"Renee, what is this?" Charlie came downstairs, unhappy, waving frantically with his outfit.

"Why Charles, this is your outfit." she replied calmly.

He fumed so much, that I half expected fume to come out of his ears. "A monkey suit! This is what is it!" he choked.

"Nonsense, Charles," Renee waved off with her hand. "Quit making a fool of yourself; we are running late."

"Excuse me for delaying, but as you see my dear Renee, I seem to be short of an accordion and one little spider-monkey. You didn't happen to see them, did you my dear?"

Emmett McCarthy was passing nearby, barely covered his laugh with a dry cough.

"Emmett McCarthy! Don't you dare to catch a cold a day before my wedding day!" Rose scolded him.

Alice, bless her heart and sense of control, was quick to take charges of the preparations. Amidst the raging bride who couldn't find her white shoes, the servant that run with loaded hands, threatening to knock each other out of their feet, and all the chaos that turned the Hales villa into a zoo, she seemed to be please to be able to be the one to take charge over matter. She put the argument to its end and ushered Charlie away, assuring that his outfit was certainly a no monkey-suit and promised even to fix a nice boutonniere to go along with his jacket.

The rehearsed procession toward the altar began from the balcony on the second floor, which overlooked the garden and the altar.

There were two marble staircases from either side of the balcony from where a pathway was paved of newly purchased, shiny granite tiles, led to the altar. The altar itself, was set beneath a gazebo that was made of marble statues supporting a wire dome, and several additional ones that created a small entrance in front of it.

The garden was already in full bloom of late May, and several additional arrangements of fresh roses, lilies of the valley and jasmines were about to be placed early in the morning tomorrow on the balcony, the staircases and around the altar.

I admitted to myself that the setting was extravagant; it looked as if it belonged to a princess fairy-tale, but I found myself secretly wishing in my heart that I could belong to a such tale too.

Edward was in charge of improvising the music temporarily. He stood beside a pianoforte that was carried outdoors and settled for him near the gazebo, until everyone was called to order. Then he sat, giving a cue to the porters by the doors, and began to play the Cannon.

The balcony's doors were wide open and the participants in procession were lined up in order.

First to walk the aisle was Emmet. I knew he was entering from the double doors on the first floor that were located beneath the balcony, so he would not see the bride before it was time.

Alice and Jasper followed, once Emmett reached the altar.

"Bella, it is only a rehearsal," Alice smiled at me as I stood, tapping my foot nervously behind her. She descended down the left staircase of the balcony, and Jasper the opposing right staircase. Despite her small stature and delicate frame, Alice paced with grace and style, as Jasper took her by arm to escort her; dhe seemed to glide across the aisle, rather than pacing it.

I watched them reach the altar and then, and then it was my turn to walk the aisle.

I walked slowly and steady, trying to step in time to the tune. I disliked the invisible spotlight that now was resting on me. Neither it helped that Renee was constantly shouting to remind me to keep my back straight and hold my chin up; young Ladies were supposed to walk the aisle with grace and poise, and there will be many spectators attending the wedding tomorrow.

Emmett winked at me, Jasper gave a sympathetic smile as the rehearsal progressed, and Alice reached to take my arm when I finally took place beside her. I felt embarrassed in front of everyone, especially in front of Edward.

"Bells, you walked beautifully. Just remember to smile," she gave my arm a soft squeeze. Then, she leaned even closer and whispered: "I even think that there is a certain gentleman that has eyes for none but you."

"What?" my eyes slowly began to wander in the direction of the fortepiano.

Alice was right.

Edward was staring at me.

The melody of the Cannon smoothly faded and Edward began to play the bridal march, but not before he caught my glance and gave me a quick crooked smile.

***

As soon as the rehearsal was over, Grandma Lucille insisted that all her grandchildren would accompany her to the sea.

She sat beneath her parasol and knitted, smiling as she was satisfied and very pleased with herself. Occasionally, she would paused to admire with a sweet smile the view, the waves that crashed against the shore, and how Jasper, Emmett and Edward turned to be little boys that ran around chasing each other, splashing water everywhere.

"Why, I once was a young lady too," she spoke to Rose, Alice and I. "All the officers had been violently in love with me, but I only had eyes for my Paulie…"

She would look at boys lovingly, the way a mother admires playful infants, sigh, and return back to knitting, nodding to herself occasionally.

Alice said she wanted to gather as many sea-shells as we could, explaining that she will reveal later why they were necessary.

Emmett and Rose walked close enough beside each other, ahead of everyone, closer than even before. Emmett did not allow Rose to bend and picked up himself any shell she pointed to. Goldilocks with her wits, used her opportunity to squat beside him, and when she thought no one watched them, she placed her hand in Emmett's. Emmett pretended to grasp handful of shells, as if he could not find the one he like, and placed his hand on hers, holding it tightly. I averted my eyes, sensing that the moment was too private to watch.

Jasper skipped pebbles, singing 'little Alice hunts sea-shells down by the sea shore' and she laughed as they shared some joke.

I was behind everyone else, the slowest and the most picky shell hunter. While the others already filled their cans with shells, mine remained to be empty.

I bit my lip in frustration. There were many rows of shells laying upon other shells, but I could not find one that really appealed me. No matter what shell I picked, either it was broken, or plain round-ones with faded colors.

"May I offer some help?" a too familiar velvet voice startled me.

I turned my head around.

Edward stood behind me, with a shining bronze halo surrounding his head, and stretched the palm of his hand. He held a cone-shaped snail shell, with a milky, pearly shade that gleamed in the sunlight.

"I saw that your did not find any shells, so I thought you may like this one. It is small, but it sings. Listen," he placed the shell to my ear.

Through the narrow opening, I could hear a faint whooshing sound that reminded of waves crashing upon a shore.

"This was very thoughtful of you, Edward. The shell is indeed a pretty, rare one."

He briefly scanned my face for few seconds. "Bella, may we talk? There is something I need to explain," his tone become suddenly low and serious.

"Why, yes."

"I just wanted to say that there is nothing that can justify the way I acted toward you this morning- it was inexcusable, and yet, I feel obliged to give you some explanation. "

"You….obliged…to give me an explanation?" I tried out the words, confused by the way they sounded, placed in that order. "For what?"

"I guess we both fell asleep on the balcony," he began to explain as he noticed the confusion my face betrayed. "I woke up earlier and I intended to wake you up as well, but you slept so peacefully that I felt obliged to let you have few more hours of sleep."

He paused, and squatted to pick a handful of seashell, tossing the broken one aside and good ones into the basket.

"You were so cold, and I did not know how to keep you warm," he shook his head to himself, nearly whispering, as if he were confessing a dark secret, in struggle to find the right words. "It was very inappropriate of me to touch you like this, but I had to keep you close enough to myself, so you would be warm. I hope you weren't cold?".

I suddenly remember the warmth was enveloping me last night in my sleep. _Have it been his arms that were wrapped around me last night_?

"No, not all; I assure you that I rested well enough, Edward."

He looked stopped walking, and now was looking at the waves that were crushing against the shore. "I won't put you through anything like this again. I will understand if you will choose to avoid me for the rest of the days and I will keep my distance. I promise that you will not need to bear any discomfort from my presence, and that I will not remind you of what had happened. I will not bother you anymore. It will be as if we'd never met."

As my mind absorbed each word, I began to realize how absurd they were.

"Don't-" I cut him abruptly, my voice barely a whisper. "You don't mean this; this is absurd!"

Never, until now, I heard words that stung and hurt so much. Each word pierced and burned me inside, as if venom was sipping through my veins. "I will not accept any apologies, Edward-"

He turned and fixed his gaze on my face, studying me with his eyes, but his was free of any emotion as of a marble statue.

I gulped, not daring to avert my eyes from his, but determined to speak out "-because there is nothing to apologize for," I stared back at his deep, emerald- green orbs, though my cheeks burned and my eyes stung from the intensity of the stare. "The only one who is should be ashamed is me."

"Don't you dare to be ashamed," he spoke sternly, seizing my hand. "If you just knew how much I appreciate that you stayed and kept me a company. I wish I allow you to continue your sleep, were it not the concerns and the questions your whereabouts and absence could have raised, and cause you a great discomfort."

I felt a familiar, tingling jolt of sparks in my hand, which lit me partially with fear, and partially, with an exhilarating thrill, and I welcomed it like an old friend.

As charming as Edward was, I was beginning to realize that his character was proving him to be a very stubborn opponent I yet had to face.

"Will you promise me something?"

"Anything for you, Bella."

"Promise me that you will not harass me with your apologies. Not now, not ever."

He frowned, nearly rolling his eyes. "I should be more careful with the promises I make."

"You promised me _anything_, " I smiled as his face began to soften.

"What a humble request," he mocked me.

"You are not exactly in a position to bargain, Edward Anthony."

"And you seem to have a tendency to say the things I expected least, and always catch me by surprise."

The staring contest continued.

"Shuffling the cards after they have been dealt, or you still got few charms remaining in your sleeve?"

"I believe that I am proofed against any charms but yours milady," he flashed a crooked smile of a cat that got the cream.

He closed my fingers around the shell with his smooth, warm hand, lacing his long fingers with mine.

***

Alice asked me and Rose to keep one sea shell we liked most and handed us blank cards, requesting us to write anything that was on our minds. We could write letters to ourselves, past memories, or wish-lists; anything that we would want to reread again in another ten years. As for the sea-shells, Alice gave us small scrolls and asked us to write our names on them. The scrolls with the names were to be inserted inside the sea shells. Alice always had a mind for unusual ideas, so Rose and I followed her lead.

The groom and his men parted with us this afternoon, moving to a nearby local inn so the groom would and the bride will not see each other before their wedding day.

I retreated to the library. There among the rows of shelves stacked with leather-bounded books that withheld an antique scent I beloved, I tried to think.

_What could I write of_?

I sat by the desk and stared out at the window. The only things that came to my mind were the times I've spent in Edward's company.

I groaned loudly. Nearly everything now was revolving around Edward, perhaps the universe itself too.

Beyond the window, the garden's view stretched before me. Light wind played with the rose buds, shaking their fragile heads. From the desk where I sat, I could even see and faintly hear the water rising and falling in the fountain.

I stared at the blank card that rested before me.

_What could I write of_?

I played with the feather in my hand, brushing it against my nose, as I brainstormed for ideas.

_What could I write of_?

A pause.

Then, there was a sudden spark, and the words seemed to flow in my mind like a river. I hurried up to grab a fountain-pen, and dipped its sharp end in the bottle of Indian ink.

_So what is the future like, Bella? _I wrote

Soon, I had three pages drying on the desk.

I folded the card into quarters and inserted it into the envelope.

The wax melted over the candle's flame, and I was smiled to myself, pleased, as I sealed the letter.


	8. Chapter 7, Part I

**AN:** Between the college transfer papers and the release of 'New Moon", I certainly had a lot going on my mind over the last months, but rest assuerd- this story had not abandoned my thoughts.  
This Thank-You shout out goes to **Ellelovesedward**,and **xoxPureFireworksxox. **To the rest of my loyal readers and followers- thank you for constantly checking for updates. I hope this chapter will compensate for the long wait and your patience.  
**Disclaimer:** The Twilight saga and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**P.S.** Do excuse my poor grammar and mistakes, if you will come across any- I was most impatient to publish this chapter.

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**Chapter 7 Part I:**

The candle in the lantern flickered and cast dim, dancing shadows on the wooden panels of the walls. Three hands were clutching the lacquered, mahogany rail, to soften the echoing creaks from their steps, as three pairs of feet descended the stairs.

Alice, Rose and I, were escaping outdoors tonight.

Initially, the plan was to exit through the kitchen; its quarters were located on ground level, and had the nearest exit to the orchards, but the maids tended to gather there at nights, so we opted to leave through the stairs of the balcony on the second floor.

My thoughts went to Edward as I stepped into the balcony, breathing in the cold air. The seats and the table that Edward and I occupied last night, were gone, making the vacant space forsaken and unwelcoming.

"Pass me the lantern Bella," Alice whispered.

Her eyes scanned the garden lined with rows of seats, which resembled more a graveyard in the pale moonlight.

"The grounds seem to be clear," Alice began to walk down the stairs. "Now, find the shovel- I left one somewhere nearby the gate."

"Are we going to bury someone?" Rose asked.

"No, you daft girl."

"Then what do we need a shovel for?"

"Well, can you the dig the ground with your own hands?"

"Have I mentioned that you have gone insane, Alice?"

"Exactly."

"I haven't meant to say that as a compliment in your address."

"I'd still take it for one."

Alice and Rose continued to argue all the way to the orchard's gate, without the least intention of demonstrating scrupulousness and heedfulness.

When the orchard's gate creaked, opening, I felt goose bumps creeping on the nape of my neck.

It was much darker here, beneath the shades of the trees, and the path was barely illuminated by the flickers of the lantern.

"What are we looking for Alice?" I asked.

"A tree," she replied. She began to touch the barks of the trees she passed by, like a blind touched objects that are on his pathway. She would slide the palm of her hand up and down the trees, and scrape their rough barks.

I raised my eyes to a magnificent tree that was covered in an eerie glow of its many airy, white flowers that filled the air with a vaguely familiar, luscious scent.

Suddenly understating Alice's strange actions, I walked up to the tree, reaching one hand to touch the bark. Lightly digging my fingernails in the tree's bark, I began to scrape its surface, looking for knife-cut carvings.

"Great! First it is Alice, and now it is you Bella. Both of you two have gone insane." Rose complained.

I smiled as the fingernail of my index finger suddenly sank into a deeply cut line. I traced further my fingernail along the deeply carved line that drew a heart , and when I moved the tip of my finger to its middle, there were carvings of initials.

_BS._

I trailed further with my finger along the bark and found two more carved hearts, with the initials of _RH_ and _AB_.

"Alice, I think I've found the tree you were looking for," I smiled.

"I knew that you'd understand Bella," her voiced chimed in glee.

Among the many trees that grew in the orchard, this one was the prettiest and the strongest, and beared the most delicious apples I've ever tasted. As the faint fragrance of the apple blossoms hung in the air, invitingly calling me to take a stroll down the lane of childhood memories from the times I spent in this tree's shadow, my mouth began to water, and I could recall and feel the taste of those apples on the tip of my tongue.

This was our very own apple tree; many hours were spent by us climbing its branches, countless bruises, and even a broken arm gained, as we played in its shades. The Hales' old gardener used to chase us with his rusty rake, and we would ran away, shrieking from thrill and the delight of provoked mischief.

I suddenly felt silly and giddy, sensing the presence of my long forgotten mischievous, old self, whom, somehow with the years, I've managed to hide somewhere deep and unreachable in my heart.

"Oh, the memories," Rose approached, echoing my thoughts.

"Dearly beloved," Alice ceremoniously opened, "we are gathered here today in presence of this tree, the moon, and the stars, to mark two important events: the day Rose ceases to be an old maid, and finally, our long awaited reunion."

I snorted with laugh, and Goldilocks scoffed.

"We are not bounded by blood-ties like most sisters are," Alice continued, "but our bonds are stronger than any other sisters'. Always were, always are, and always will be.

"I have asked each of you to write something that would be meaningful to you. I hope that each one of you found that something, whether it is a memory, a letter to self, or a poem; something that you would choose to cherish and nurse in your hearts; something to witness the countless, happy days we spent here, and times that we would want to cherish and remember."

Alice rummaged through her ransack that was on her shoulder, pulling out random objects that I couldn't distinct in the dark.

"These are our letters and sea shells," she explained. "Your writings and shells are about to be placed in this chest, and be buried, as soon as the watch in my hand strikes midnight. They are not to be opened until the next ten years shall pass. I don't know what tomorrow shall bring us, but as much as I want to believe, I do hope that we all shall remain to be close to each other, no matter wherever we will go, and wherever we shall be. This place is the only one I've truly felt that I belonged to, so may it bound us all together. On this very same day, under this very same tree, exactly ten years from now, we shall reunite."

Alice placed the letters and the shells into the wooden chest, and I felt my throat tighten. Goldilocks was looking down at the ground, her face hidden by a curtain of cascading, silvery-blue hair.

"So long," Alice locked the chest with the key, "until it is time."

Rosalie stood on a wooden platform, in front of three, full-length mirrors that formed a semi-circle around her. Her maids formed the other half of the circle, as they adjusted the veil around Rosalie's golden mane that was weaved into complex knots, held with pearl pins.

She dismissed the maids, and then dragged me alongside to the platform.

"Rose, you look wonderful!" I hugged her.

"Just look at _you_ Bella!" Rose spun me around. "_Merveilleux_!"

I stood beside Rose, and stared at our reflections in the three mirrors, not recognizing the one that was looking back at me: cascading curls that were neatly pinned, pale-crimson cheeks, and enormous, brown eyes.

"What do you think of your dress, Bella? It compliments your complexion so well!"

I had to admit the dress was rather a very nice one: ivory white, with a bias-cut drapery, and resembled much an ancient Greek Chiton, despite that my complexion and appearance paled in contrast to the dress's elegance and vanity.

"The dress is rather a beautiful one," I confessed.

"I assume Alice is the one who is responsible for the rest of your appearance?"

"Bella was stubborn like a mule, but of course there isn't anything that Alice Brandon cannot deal with, by applying the right skills, with a little of personal charm," the cadet walked into the room, and stuck out her chest proudly." Oh, Rose can I borrow some of your jewelry and some of those pearl headpins for Bella?" and she stormed toward the vanity table.

"I better look good for having the strength to wear one of those hateful, _waist-enhancing_, _glove-fitting_ torturing device that you call a _corset_," I pointed out sourly.

"Bias-cut dresses, Rose!" Alice continued to chatter mindlessly, opening the jewelry boxes and pouring their contents out. "Just where on earth did you get our dresses from?"

"They are imported from Paris, from the house of Madame Vionnet, I think" Rose responded.

Alice half dropped the pearl-earrings and the choker she chose for me.

"Are they? Why yes, I thought so, but there was no time to bother with reading the label tags, mind you."

I could not understand Alice's excitement, but perhaps she was sporting a severe fever.

"Who is Madame Vionnet?" I asked innocently, when Alice tied the lacy cameo choker to my neck and began to tuck in the pearl headpins in my locks.

"What?" she mumbled with a mouthful of headpins. "You haven't heard of Madame Vionnet? I am all astonishment, Bella! She is the goddess of the dress fashion!"

"I was expecting a vivid reaction from you Alice, but this precedes all my expectations," Rose laughed.

There was a knock on the door, and Auntie, accompanied by Renee and grandma Lucille, walked in.

"My, on my," Auntie exclaimed, clutching hands to her chest.

"What a fairy-tale dress…"

"It's custom made, sister. French lace, mind you, woven by nuns! The veil itself cost no less than hundred pounds."

"Do take a turn for us, darling…"

Rose, delighted in all the paid amenities, spun several turns around the platform, and her dress swirled around her feet gracefully like a sea foam.

"Marvelous!"

"The bridesmaids look just as lovely."

The room buzzed like a beehive as the ladies twittered, circling us.

Grandma held a scarlet box in her hands, and revealed the family's heirloom diadem from it. "Make us all proud, dear child," she placed the tiara on Rose's head, and kissed her forehead.

"I shall, grandmother."

A maid knocked on the door. "Excuse me Your ladyship, Miss Hale," she bowed. "The groom had arrived. Sir Hale awaits your call, ma'am."

Guests were finally arriving-I could hear faintly the roaring of the arriving cars, and the sounds of pacing footsteps coming from the hallways.

"-And I still have to attend the rings-bearer and the flower girls, and inquire after the bouquets!" Alice stormed off the room.

The room suddenly filled with alarm and alert.

"Rosalie, your father needs me. I will send him here to escort you, as soon as everyone will take their places. Be ready then, darling," auntie bade.

Quickly hugging and kissing Rose for good luck, the ladies parted off the room.

I peeked through the window curtains.

The main drive was full of shiny, polished cars, that were parking, and people were walking the lawns.

Rose began to pace back and forth through the room, arms crossed across her stomach.

"What is the matter, Rose?"

"Am I doing the right thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Bella…is it…"she stammered, "is it too late for me to break the engagement?"

Her question was unexpected and felt out of line.

"Break the engagement? Why?"

She was silent.

My suspicions began to rise and my mind was plotting scenarios of possible, worst cases.

"Has Emmett committed anything faulty?" I asked, searching for the least sign of hurt and malevolence in her eyes.

"No," she shook her head, still averting her eyes from my prying. "No, Emmett is such a dear soul. Sometimes, I can't help but think that he is far too good to me. It isn't Emmett who is troubling me."

I grabbed her wrist to stop her pacing, and forced her to sit down the divan.

"Rose, You know that you can confide anything to me. Please tell me what bothers you," I held her hand.

Her head was still cast down low and she withheld her gaze. "Bella, do you remember Royce? Royce King?" her voice was hoarse, almost inaudible.

I filled her a glass of water from a nearby jug, allotting myself some time to compose my thoughts and find the appropriate response to such an unexpected and delicate subject.

_Royce_… _Royce King_… a stained memory that belonged in Rose's past; a stain that hung above her like a shadow, clouding and distracting her mind with fear, making her abandon her trust in whoever she met afterwards.

The Kings were an elite; one of the few, certain families in London's society, who had allied ties with the monarchy, and powers far beyond any imagined limit, which enabled them to come and go as they pleased.

Rose was all but sixteen, when the junior of the Kings was presented before her.

Fourteen at the time, I observed how much my cousin grew fond of the youngest of the Kings' sons. Nearly at every social gathering or event, Rose spent a great deal of time in the company of the junior King, beside mine. She flirted with the officers with a skillful coquetry and her chiming laugh would fill the room, melting hearts as she laughed, but her eyes, and heart as I discovered later, were reserved only for the gallant, fair-eyed Royce King, to whom she reserved most of the waltzes.

Though the favorite of the ladies, Royce King never had my graces and trust. Something uncertain in his manner of behavior just didn't convince my trust in his character. He had a wide-stretched smile of a fox, and a piercing glance of a predator that hunts its prey, with a pair of eyes that always remained icy-cold.

Rose accused me of harshness and being far too cold and reserved in my attitude toward Royce, but I silently withdrew from any arguments with Rose, seeing how absent-minded she became when she spoke in praise of his chivalry and breath-holding waltz pirouettes. I never confessed to Rose how much I detested Royce King.

Rumors had it in court of an upcoming engagement between the Hales and the Kings, but I overheard once Renee telling Charlie that though the Hales were long acquainted with the Kings and their alliance could bring them a respected amount of capital, the Hales had no such intentions in mind given Rose's young age at the time.

Unexceptionally, I was staying that summer with the Hales, but to my dismay, Royce King continued to pay frequent visits to the Hales, even in Brighton, so I often excused myself from the company of the Hales and their guests, unable to bear the prying glances of Royce.

One day, after five's tea, I observed that Rose was not her usual self; distant and reserved, she didn't chatter as shed used to, when she was eagerly awaiting Royce's visit. Once asked, she waved her hand off, muttering something about a migraine, though the feminine caprice was not one of her traits.

Once Royce arrived, Rosalie's behavior didn't alter much . She was capably polite in her speech and had not spoken much, unless necessary, but when she did, in her voice I detected an unexplained coldness, mainly referred in Royce's address.

As usual, I excused myself and retired to my room early from the evening, preferring to seek comfort and safety in books, rather than the cards table downstairs in circle of Hales and Royce.

I've read for awhile, and very soon, finished reading the novel. As there were no other books kept in the guest-room, I went downstairs to the library to borrow some.

I began to wonder who could have possibly been sitting in the library at that time the entire family was gathered in the living room, when I saw that the one of the library doors was slightly ajar, and a dim, stray light leaked into the corridor.

"So you though you could turn me down?" a low voice asked, startling me.

The voice seemed to come through the library.

"You thought that you could as easily as with a wave of your hand dismiss me?" the voice continued to threat.

There was a low pitched thud that startled me again and I cupped my mouth to cover the sound of my breath, feeling how all the blood froze in my veins.

I recognized that voice without any doubts. It belonged to Royce King.

"Do not think of refusing me this time, or I will poke that knife through that pretty throat of yours,"

I vaguely remember what followed after: me utterly petrified, somehow slipping from the library unnoticed, and ran as fast as I could to the living room. Then, uncle's ashen face when he ordered the butler to prepare his revolver caliber 38; auntie's hysterics; Jasper restraining my shoulders, so I would stop shaking and explain what exactly happened; speechless, mum Rose, with countless, blood-soaked bandages; one terribly long night, filled with tears and nightmares.

I can still hear his maniacal laugh ringing in my ears, when I remember standing that night at foyer with the rest of Hales, watching the police escort the hands-cuffed Royce away from the mansion.

"You know, after all this time…" Rose spoke, returning me to the present.

Her voice wasn't as coarse as earlier, but still trailing and uneven. She slowly lifted the sleeve of her dress up to her arm, and showed me the scar on her right arm.

"I told Emmett it was from the time I fell from the tree," she pointed," but he wasn't very much convinced. Bella, I can't do it! How will I face Emmett, if Royce will show up at the ceremony? I do not care if he is after me, but what if Royce will attempt to kill Emmett instead of me? It was so selfish of me to entry into this engagement, but I will not bear it if I'd lose Emmett. I dread that any day now, Royce will reappear and come back for his revenge. He is capable of anything; what if he will be among the presenters today? What if he will protest against Emmett and I being brought into marriage during the exchange of vows? "

I filled her another glass of water, and she drank it with trembling lips.

"Rose, listen to me- what happened in the past, was worse beyond any worst nightmare, but you have to release the past and let it go, or your will forever become the prisoner of your fears. Do not give up on Emmett- think of his loss and grievance, if you would break the engagement. When I look at Emmett and the way he adores you, I see that he is a honest man that will not deceive you. None of us, nor I, will allow any harm to evade you on such a day. Do you believe that Royce will dare to show himself in the presence of so many spectators?"

Alice walked in the room with the bouquets, bringing in the soothing scents of flowers. Her tiny hands were invisible beneath the hyacinths, jasmines, white ranunculuses, lilies of the valley, freesias, white tulips and creamy roses. She nearly dropped all of her bouquets and her face fell, when she saw the teary, devastated Rose.

"Rosalie dear, are you ready to go?" Uncle Georges entered behind Alice. "Everyone else had already taken their places. They are awaiting you-" Uncle's smile disappeared, replaced with worry when he met Rose's moist eyes. "Rose, are you feeling unwell?"

"In a moment, father," Rose dabbed quickly the corners of her eyes with her handkerchief. "I am alright; just slightly overcome by my emotions. Please, allow me to have few moments. I shall be ready to go soon."

"Yes, certainly…" uncle left the room, still puzzled.

"Alice…" I slightly motioned with my head, gesturing.

She quickly understood, abandoning all the bouquets, and rushed towards Rose.

"I forgot the gloves in my room, so I will be back really soon," I excused myself and slipped from the room.

I run as fast as I could in the steps of Uncle George.

"Uncle, may I have a word with you?" I hoped he would understand my gesture and that I was about to explain the obstacles. "I was hoping we could talk somewhere more private. This is concerning Rose…" I hesitated. "…and Royce King," I added silently.

His face became ashen.

"Very well, we shall talk in my study, then," he replied dryly, disguising a small cough.

In the hallway, our paths crossed with Edward and Jasper, and I felt how the anxiety in me was rising with every moment, tying sickening knots in my stomach.

"Father? Everyone is anticipating you with Rose and the bridesmaids," Jasper's expression became puzzled as he met his father's troubled glance, and me, standing by his side. "Where is Rose?"

"All in time, son, all in the right time. Come, Bella."

Uncle turned to leave, increasing his pace. Jasper and Edward darted questioning glances in my direction, but I merely shook my head.

Once, we were in cabinet, uncle shut the door tight.

"Speak Bella," his voice was soft, but I could see the pulsing vein in his temples. "But in hushed tone, I beg you."

I looked sincerely at his sapphire-blue eyes of a shade that is exactly like Rose's.

"Rose is very anxious. She believes that Royce King might show up at the ceremony today, and disrupt the exchange of vows."

Uncle closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

I tried to choose my words carefully this time .

"She considered breaking the engagement, but I persuaded her not to do so, as her only motive were the fears of annulation of marriage and rejection. She is terrified that Royce might protest against her union with Emmett, and she fears for Emmett's well-being. I know that Royce was admitted to a mental ward, but nevertheless, I still felt that I am obliged to warn you. Uncle, please do encourage Rose not to succumb to her fears, as for most of their part, they are irrelevant."

Uncle George sighed deeply, and I couldn't understand whether from relief or helplessness.

"You did the right thing, dear niece, and I thank you for confiding this to me."

"I will be watching out for Royce, but I thought that perhaps you could hire some men who will secure and guard the place?"

"Now Bella, mark my words: what I am about to say next, shall strictly remain between the two of us."

I nodded.

"I wish it had been otherwise, but unfortunately, Rose isn't misled by her fears- they do have a particular relevance," uncle reached for a handkerchief, to wipe the beads of sweats on his forehead. "I set it very clear to the Kings that I wanted to hear no further word regarding the scandal that their son, of which my daughter became the victim, if the Kings wished to preserve the sake of their reputation, and heavens help them if the press would mention the slightest notion regarding the occurrence.

"Ruled by the judge's conclusion as being incapable to take responsibility of his own acts due to a mental state, Royce was admitted to a mental ward indeed. Rumors had it that his father arranged his release, preferring to hold his son at home under his own watch. A wise man, that father of his- never lets off the sight of those that are in his way. Nor do I. I had asked your father many a times to keep a watch on the Kings. You father is a fine gentleman, and his detective skills are quite legendary. I am grateful that he obliged to present at the wedding, so his fellow men will be watching the people very closely. We agreed to do the best in our powers foremost to provide protection to Rose and you."

I smiled momentarily, feeling proud of Charlie's unaccredited work. "Cha… I mean my father was on guard all these four years? I never suspected a thing."

"You were not supposed to; you became an important, sole witness to what had occurred, what put you in danger as well. Pray, not a word to anyone else, Bella, for the walls have malicious ears. Will you please keep Rose in spirits and ensure that she is well? I will be most grateful. If there is anything that you see, is out of order, please don't hesitate to alert me."

"You have my word, Sir."

"And please send Jasper, if you would come upon him, and tell him to see me immediately."

I quickly run through the corridors in search of Jasper, my head spinning from what I've just heard from Uncle George.

So Charlie was conducting secret observations? This explained why he had been absent from home for awhile, over the past month.

I met Jasper and Edward by the staircase.

"Jasper, you father would like to see you immediately," I spoke, out of breath. "This is an urgent, pressing matter, if you ask me."

Jasper nodded quickly and left.

"I don't mean to pry, but I hope whatever had occurred few moments ago, is not of a high severity." Edward spoke.

I was so distracted with my worries that I realized first time I saw Edward today, was in a dashed blur.

He was elegantly dressed in a black frock coat that gave a nice frame to his height, a navy, paisley scarf tied to his neck, and in ivory rose boutonniere pinned to his coat. Now that he was standing before me, and I could see him clearly, I could not withhold myself from staring at him.

"I cannot be the judge of that," I tried to find the appropriate response. _Why do I always seem to be in struggle to find the right words, whenever I am near him? _"-but don't be alarmed. Everyone is well. Forgive me, but I have to return to the bride. I shall see you soon," I managed to smile, before I ran off like the coward I was.

I could not lie to him- not when I saw the sincere concern in his eyes.

I was glad to see Alice and Rose laughing, when I entered the room.

"About time. Took you way too long to find the damn gloves," Alice winked, and I got the urge to poke her in the ribs to silence her.

"I see you had a nice time in my absence, so I hope the joke wasn't made on my account," I responded wittily. "But I am glad to see this lovely smile on your face again, Wosie."

"Bella, Alice- I can't say enough how thankful I am for your encouragements. What I'd do without you?" she seemed like she would burst in tears again, so I Alice and I rushed to hug her.

Uncle George knocked on the door soon, resolving the drama. "Are you feeling better Rosalie? Ladies?"

Alice took last inspection of Rose dress. "We are ready whenever Rose is."

Rose took a deep breath and gave us a brilliant smile. "I am ready, father."

Alice and I helped to drape the veil and cover Rose's, and fetched our bouquets.

The hallway on the second floor was abuzz with several voices, and a small group was gathered by the balcony's door.

There were Jasper and Edward, accompanied by a group little children among whom were the assigned ring bearer several flower girls, and train carries.

"Ladies, Sir Hale," Edward was the first acknowledged our arrival.

"Let's take our places, shall we?" Alice began to line the children, ensuring that each one had the assigned rings and the baskets with flowers.

"Miss Swan?" Edward took his place next to me.

"Mr. Masen," I acknowledged.

"I had not acknowledged your appearance earlier miss," he spoke quietly, " so if I may be so bold, please allow me to say how exquisitely charming you look."

"Thank you- I am most appeased, Mr. Masen" I replied, trying to remain nonchalant at his words. "So do you- you look quite splendid."

"Does my attire seem to be appropriate for such event?"

"I am not the greatest expert, when it comes to handling formal attires- you should have consulted with Alice," I teased, "but on the other hand, better leave it this way, because I find it to be most appropriate".

"Thank you," he smiled. "Ah, are those freesias I smell?" he sighed quietly, inhaling the smell of my bouquet.

He reached and stroked the petals of flowers. "Not just sweet and innocent, but spirited, trust-worthy and friendly. Your choice of flowers, I presume?"

I nodded, surprised. "Do you understand the symbolism of flowers, Mr. Masen?"

"Only if they happen to be my favorite flowers," he winked.

He offered me his arm, and I slipped mine carefully around his. Unlike mine, it was not tense, and yet it was firm and strong, and comfortably supported my arm.

"Is everyone ready?" Uncle George asked.

The procession participants choired 'yes!' in unison.

"Very well then- lets the wedding begin!"

The porters opened the doors, and I could hear the orchestra and the chorus breaking in harmony of the Cannon.

Alice and Jasper began to walk, and Edward and I stepped forward. I held closer Edward's arm, without realizing for the first moments how tightly I was gripping it.

"It will be alright, Bella," his smooth voice reached my ears, as he sensed how tense my arm was in his.

"Whatever you do, never let go off of me."

He chuckled silently. "Don't worry- I won't."

A murmur passed through the crowd, when Jasper and Alice reached the altar.

Edward pulled me gently, and I gulped nervously. We stepped into the balcony, and I felt how every pair of eyes shifted and focused on us.

Perhaps some had recognized me; perhaps some recognized Edward or were wondering what was such a pretty, young gentleman was doing in a company of such a plain girl. More whispers and murmurs passed through the crowd.

I couldn't really hear the music, though I sensed how my ears clogged from the tension. I smiled the best way I could muster, but the corners of my lips twitched, making my smile wobbly and uneven.

Edward tightened his grip around my arm, to remind me that he is still there. When the endless path ended and we reached the altar, he gave my arm a light squeeze, before he'd let go of it. We awaited the ring bearer, and parted to our places by the altar, once we had the rings.

I began to scan the presenters, but then Rose appeared on the balcony, and all the presenters rose.

Not wanting to miss such an important moment, I focused on Rose.

She rejoined her arm with her father, when each of them descended from different staircase, and began to walk toward the altar. Her little flower girls were joyfully throwing petals in the air, rather than on the floor, as Rose was walking behind then, escorted by the arm of uncle George and her train-carriers.

"Please be seated," the minister announced, as the bride reached the altar.

The music and the singing of the chorus faded, but the murmurs of whispers could still be heard in the crowd.

"Dearly Beloved-" the minister raised his tone a note higher, to silence the presenters."- We are gathered together here in the sign of God – and in the face of this company – to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony. We are here today – before God – to witness the joining in marriage of Emmett Dale McCarthy and Rosalie Lillian Hale. This occasion marks the celebration of love and commitment with which this man and this woman begin their life together. Who gives this woman in marriage to this man?"

"Her family and friends gathered here today do," uncle George answered.

He kissed Rose's forehead and released her arm.

"If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

Tense silence hang in the air.

I run my eyes across the rows of presenters.

Royce King was nowhere in sight, but I detected several men blended among the crowd, and casting occasional, observing glances at the presenters. Charlie was one of such men; he carefully turned his head and scanned the crowd, and then shifted his focus on me. Once his eyes met mine, he give me a slight node.

I observed the faces of my peers: Jasper looked calm, but wide alerted, ready to strike anyone who would dare to approach Rose, no doubt warned by his father. Alice kept shifting her glances worriedly on Rose and me. Emmett's jaw was clenched tightly, and even Edward seemed to sense the tension, his lips tightened and eyebrows frowned.

For awhile, it seemed that we all had gathered for a funeral.

I half expected at any moment to hear a shout of a protesting 'no!', or to see a figure standing up from the crowd, but no one spoke.

"Very well then," the minister spoke, spreading relief among the graven faces.

The change in the facial expression of several had changed instantly, but I knew that it was only a temporary relief; I would not lose my alertness, until I will see the marriage pact sealed.

"Do you Emmett Dale McCarthy take Rosalie Lillian Hale to be your wife – to live together after God's ordinance – in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon her your heart's deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?"

"I will," Emmett smiled at Rose.

"And do you Rosalie Lillian Hale take Emmett Dale McCarthy to be your husband – to live together after God's ordinance – in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon him your heart's deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?

"I will," Rose chocked her tears.

"What token of your love do you offer?"

Edward and I stepped forward and placed the rings on a small silver plate.

"May these rings be blessed as the symbol of this affectionate unity," the minister raised the plate. "These two lives are now joined in one unbroken circle. Wherever they go – may they always return to one another. May these two find in each other the love for which all men and women year. May they grow in understanding and in compassion. May the home which they establish together be such a place that many will find there a friend. May these rings on their fingers symbolize the touch of the spirit of love in their hearts."

The minister handed the ring to Emmett.

"Emmett Dale McCarthy, in placing this ring on Rosalie's finger, repeat after me: Rosalie Lillian Hale, you are now consecrated to me as my wife from this day forward and I give you this ring as the pledge of my love and as the symbol of our unity and with this ring, I thee wed."

"Rosalie Lillian Hale, in placing this ring on Emmett's finger, repeat after me: Emmett Dale McCarthy, you are now consecrate to me as my husband from this day forward and I give you this ring as the pledge of my love and as the symbol of our unity and with this ring, I thee wed."

Emmett and Rose exchanged their vows.

Sobs erupted from the first rows; Auntie, Renee and even Grandma Lucille were dabbing their handkerchiefs around the rims of their eyes.

I peeked at Alice, only to see two thin silvery lines rolling on her cheeks as well, what instantly caused my own eyes to feel watery, and she offered me a sheepish smile in apology.

"Will the witnesses please come to the altar to sign their evidence?"

Edward and I stepped up to sign the papers. As he handed me the pen, his fingers gently brushed mine.

We returned to our places, and Alice and Jasper proceed to sign the certificates, but now I only thought of the warmth of Edward's fingers against mine. So surreal it felt, that I was sure in was a ploy of my imagination.

"In as much as Emmett Dale McCarthy and Rosalie Lillian Hale have consented together in marriage before this company of friends and family and have pledged their faith – and declared their unity by giving and receiving a ring – are now joined. You have pronounced yourselves husband and wife. What – therefore – God has joined together – let no man put asunder. And so, by the power vested in me by the Lord almighty, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Applauds and cheers erupted, as the groom and the bride exchanged a very passionate kiss.

Alice grabbed my arm and squealed, nearly bouncing on the floor on her tiny feet.

"Wosie!" we swarmed her with a hug, as she turned to us for her bouquet.

"Bells! Alice!" the tears gleamed in her eyes.

Alice and I readjusted her veil and the train of her dress, and the groom and the bride began their procession. As they made their first steps as a man and wife, they greeted by showers of rice and confetti.

"May I escort you milady?" Edward smiled crookedly at me, offering his arm.

"You certainly may, fair sir."


	9. Chapter 7, Part II

**AN: **Please accept my sincerest apologies for the great delay with this chapter. I would like to give a big thank-you to all those who faithfully followed this story and closely checked for updates. You are the best! ******Disclaimer: **I do NOT own Twilight. Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Playlist:****  
**Josef Strauss- **Waltzer op. 283 ('The Last Waltz')**.  
Al Jolson- **Anniversary Song. **

* * *

**Chapter 7, Part II:**

"Come," Edward called, beckoning my hand, "I want to introduce you to someone."

The sun was setting rapidly, and thousands of miniature lanterns and fairy lights were being lit. The orchestra played pleasant, baroque chamber music, and guests were walking the lawns, awaiting the banquet's opening.

Edward walked with me across the lawn, and approached a middle aged man and woman.

The woman had a noble, delicate face framed by caramel locks, and a graceful figure of a willow. Her appearance gave the utmost hint of a wealthy stature. Then, my eyes fell on the tall, fair-haired man who stood beside her, and I recognized them instantly; they were none other than Dr. and Mrs. Cullen.

Mrs. Cullen turned around and noticed our approach. The lines of her face shifted in recognition, and she revealed a heartwarming smile.

Edward bowed his head to his patron, and kissed the hand of his patroness. "Esme, Carlisle. Allow me to introduce to you Miss Isabella Swan. Miss Swan, these are my patrons, Dr. and Mrs. Cullen."

Dr. Cullen shook my hand politely. "It's a pleasure to see you again Bella. How do you do?"

Esme hugged me, altogether avoiding any formalities. "Hello Bella! It has been awhile since we met last, but you look lovelier than ever."

I always admired Dr. Cullen and his wife. They were intelligent and charismatic people, but also compassionate and attentive; they always addressed me by my diminutive rather than by full, name. Dr Cullen was a master in his skill and devoted to his patients, while his wife assisted him as a nurse. Seeing them treating Edward like their own son, made me feel even a greater respect and admiration toward Carlisle and Esme Cullen.

"Thank you. I'm glad to see you as well." I blushed. "How is the new hospital coming along?"

Esme's eyes sparked excitedly. "It's coming along quite well. Much of the building's renovation is done, and I barely can hold on waiting until the opening."

" I believe we will be able to open the doors of our first hospital by the end of this autumn," Dr. Cullen smiled, "and we would be very honoured if you would grace us with your presence at the opening ceremony."

"Oh, I certainly shall be there." I smiled.

Edward was surprised. "I didn't know you were already acquainted with my patrons, Miss Swan."

"Dr. Cullen has been our family's physician for the recent years," I explained, " but unfortunately, I don't get the pleasure to see him and Mrs. Cullen as often now."

"It is a pity indeed," confessed Esme."I don't get many opportunities to come and visit Ealing as often as I wish to, but should an opportunity present itself, I would be delighted to. I find a great deal of pleasure spending my time in the countryside, and Bella's family reside near a lovely one. Edward, do you know that Bella spends some of her time drawing the countryside? Why, your favorite, the one hangs in our dining room, is Bella's very own. Her paintings are amongst most vibrant and expressive ones I have ever came upon."

"You did not tell me that you can paint well, Miss Swan." Edward commented." And I wonder how is it possible that we have never met before."

I was humbled by Esme's far exceeding praises of my non-existent talents, but before I could reply, a group of people approached us, amidst who were Sir and Lady Hale, Charlie and Renée, and another, vaguely familiar, gentleman.

They exchanged their greetings and formalities with the Cullens.

"Allow me to introduce you my colleague, Mr. Philip Dwyer," Charlie introduced the gentleman.

"Ladies, Gentlemen." Philip bowed to us, speaking in a slight french accent. "Echanté."

"Are you originally from France Mr. Dwyer? " asked Esme.

"No ma'am. I am an Englishman, but I had the fortune of spending the best years of my life in France."

"What had brought you back to England?" Dr. Cullen asked.

Phillip Dwyer chuckled, but the sound of his laughter was unpleasant and ironic." I'd believe it was fate."

"Oh please Mr. Dwyer," laughed my mother, "a gentleman like you believes in fate?"

"Why not, Madam? "

He moved his hand towards Renée's face, and then in a snap of fingers, he revealed a coin from the palm of his hand. "After all, anything is possible." he said, placing the coin in Renée's hand.

The company was awed and applauded Mr. Dwyer.

Edward didn't. Neither did I.

Fortunately, a bell rung, announcing the opening of the banquet.

Esme clasped her hands around mine. "I hope that we will be able to talk more after the banquet, beautiful girl."

"It was a pleasure to see you, Bella." Dr. Cullen nodded, and they parted on their way to their table.

Edward and I bid farewell the rest of the company, and went to our seats at the table of honour.

"Bella, have you met Mr. Dwyer before?" Edward asked, when we were at a distance from our earlier companions.

"Yes, he frequently comes to visit Charlie at our place. I believe that they are good colleagues."

"How do you find the _character _of Mr. Dwyer?"

"He seems to be a nice gentleman, but there is something about him that I quite don't know how to describe, without offending his character. I am not well acquainted with him."

"You do not trust him, do you? I cannot believe he dare to behave a complete simpleton and perform this low parlour trick he had just pulled. Frankly, I saw it as an offence in your mother's address."

"I was offended as well," I admitted,"but there was nothing that could be done."

"Someone should had let him know his place."

"You are truly not afraid to say what do you really think of people, Edward, and this is one of the many qualities that I respect about your character. I wish that I could be as sincere as you are."

"You can always be sincere, whenever in you are in my company, and never fear of saying what you truly think of. I ask for nothing but sincerity and honesty."

I wondered what my life would have looked like, had I always said things I truly thought of and gave a voice to each of my beliefs. There rather was a thin border line between what was allowed to be said and what had to be censored and concealed, never mentioned but in own thoughts. I'd be a simpleton indeed, had I dared to reveal the true nature of my thoughts in Edward's presence, and he would have avoided my company at any cost.

"Don't take my words as a direction intention in your address, but I believe that it takes time to build trust and mutual respect to be entirely sincere with your companion." I said.

"I take no offence. These are words spoken wisely , and perhaps I had requested too much from you. Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive. Despite that we are not acquainted for very long, I do put my trust in you, so I will not hesitate to tell you that I quite dislike Mr. Dwyer. Round he goes, smooth and slick, makes love to all, but he is as cunning as an old fox. "

Edward chuckled. "Now you are beginning to become entirely honest with me."

At the twilight hour, the music faded and the orchestra began to play the first waltz. The presenters slowly began to rise from their seats, gathering round the dance floor for the first waltz.

First to enter, were the newlyweds; they curtsied to each other, and began to swirl to the beat of the Viennese waltz .

Edward lowered his head, leaning closer to me. "May I have the honor of asking you for the next dance?" he almost whispered in my ear.

"Uh, I don't dance. I dance in the most detestable and severely ill manner."

The edges of his lips withheld a laugh. "Allow me to be the judge of that."

"Well, I don't know…" I stammered, raking the ground with the tip of my shoe.

"Of course, I will not force you if you do not wish to. We could as well stay and sit here by the table. "

I was truly delighted and excited; rarely it was that someone eligible and charming like Edward had asked for my hand in dance, but it was beyond my worst fears to put to display my lack of grace and delicateness in dance.

"It is not that I do not wish to," I hesitated, "but I am not familiar even with the most fundamental steps of the waltz."

"All you have to remember is that you begin your first step by stepping with your left foot backwards. A well synchronized dance mainly depends on the skill of the leading party, so you must entrust this responsibility to me."

"You are saying that all is requested from me is to begin by stepping with my left foot backwards, and entrust the rest to you?"

He nodded.

"Is it even possible?"

"If you would allow me to quote the very own words of our truly, Monsieur Dwyer, _anything is possible_." he imitated Phillip's french accent."

I burst in laugh.

"Well," I replied, feeling an exhilarating warmth spreading within my lungs, "then, we shall dance."

He smiled his breathtaking crooked smiley, taking me by the arm. "Thank you."

"You might not be as thankful when the dance will be over," I warned.

The crooked smile stretched further."I do not agree with you this time, Miss Swan."

We sat and waited, until the first waltz was over.

Then, Edward led me to the dancing floor, and I could feel gazes being rested upon us as we entered. Edward bowed his head, and I returned the gesture with a kneeling curtsy.

We stepped toward each other, and I gingerly placed my left hand on Edward's arm.

Placing his right hand on my waist, Edward drew me closer to him than I dared to approach, nearly crashing me against his ribs and muscular chest.

Our gazes met as he raised his left hand, interlocking our fingers.

"If you are feeling dizzy, just close your eyes." he whispered.

_Left foot, Backwards. Left foot. Backwards. The left foot goes backwards…_ I chanted in my mind as my breathing hyperventilated, not daring to break the gaze.

I felt Edward's right foot moving forward, pushing me lightly. I winced but responded immediately, stepping with left foot backwards, before I had time to wonder what to do.

Edward took another step, rotating our bodies clockwise to make a turn.

Again, I found myself responding to his moves immediately, without any prior thoughts, as if I were devoted to dancing ever since I was born; as though a part of me knew ahead of time in which direction to step, without analyzing the movement beforehand.

Before I knew it, Edward and I were spinning to the beat of the Viennese waltz with a countless number of turns, chassés and pivots.

I had to acknowledge it was Edward's exquisite skill that navigated my movements so fluently and effortlessly. I felt lightheaded from the velocity and the force of our motion that l truly believed that in any moment, we would leap off the floor.

I saw no faces, no crowd, no dancing figures; they all blurred in a waltz of colors, mingling with the clamors of talk and the orchestra's music.

Yet, I could clearly see Edward's eyes; their mesmerizing, majestic gaze never broke, drawing me closer to him the way a puppeteer pulls the string of his marionette.

Hesitantly, I leaned closer to Edward.

It was close enough that I could see each freckle in the dandelions of his emerald irises, and the black of his pupils contract and dilate as they caught the glow of the lanterns; close enough that I could even see myself being reflected in his eyes.

A longing feeling began to swell inside me. It was a feeling similar to such that one feels upon living an expectation of something grand and exciting, which fills one with an utmost desire and longing anticipation of moments that are yet to happen.

I wanted to explore and roam this feeling wholly; I wanted to absorb its exhilarating sensation that I would never ever feel again. I didn't understand at all what I desire from my expectation of that grand something, but whatever it was, I craved it. I _need_ it. I wanted to succumb myself entirely to his gaze that evoked such intense feelings in me, and get lost in the depths of his eyes forever.

Edward halted, as though he overheard my thoughts, and it dawned upon me that the waltz was over.

He bowed to me, and I barely remembered to curtsy on time in respond, reddening at my prior, inappropriate thoughts.

"Would you mind taking a stroll?" I asked, eager to get away to a remoter place, away from the prying eyes of the wedding guests and the clamor of their talking. "It's too crowded here, and I am slightly out of breath."

"No, I wouldn't." he replied, taking my arm."The garden will suit well."

We strolled through the lawn, getting away from the music and the clamor of the banquets celebration, until we reached a secluded, remote bench surrounded by bushes.

"I assume you are not fond of large gatherings?" Edward asked, once we sat down.

I nodded. "No, but I agreed only for Rosalie's sake."

"Neither I am, but I agreed for Emmett's."

We both smiled.

He lowered his voice."Why did you tell me such a blasphemy earlier, Bella? You can dance fairly well."

"Had it not been you, I would have injured severely the feet and arms of my potential dance cavalier, and perhaps even my own limbs, so I must thank you for leading me so securely and safely. It was truly a pleasure, despite that I was never really fond of dancing."

"You were never fond of dancing probably because none of your dancing partners led you properly and showed you the way of dance."

"Perhaps they did not, but dancing with you was truly a delight."

"No, the pleasure was all mine." he slowly reached for my hand. Then, gently, he placed a kiss upon the back of my hand.

It was a suave peck, lighter that the touch of silk, and yet I closed my eyes the moment his lips brushed against my glove, glad we were surrounded by semidarkness, in a secluded niche. I couldn't find the right reply, and just sat there dumbfound, stiff as a log.

_Please kiss it again_...I begged in my thoughts, feeling the same longing feeling swelling in my lungs. _Kiss my hand all over; take the glove off it, and stamp my bare skin with you lips. Kiss me, or I shall die right here_.

Suddenly, I heard rustling noises and sounds of twigs being broke, as though someone was crawling in the bushes the bushes and accidentalystepped on a twig that snapped loudly.

Startled, I yanked my hand away from Edward.

The moment was ruined and gone, never to be repeated again.

I could swear that I saw a tall silhouette creeping from a bush, which soon was drawn visibly on the ground by a reflection of a nearby lamp stand. "There is someone hiding here." I said. "It is someone who doesn't belong here, otherwise he wouldn't try to crawl toward a house in such way. It must be a thief."

"I heard him too." said Edward.

I jumped from the bench, and run in footsteps of the disturber.

Edward didn't hesitate to follow me.

"Isabella, wait!" he yelled. "He could be potentially dangerous."

Apparently, the disturber was now well aware that he was in pursuit, so he broke into, running in the orchard's direction.

As he reached and climbed the fence, I did caught a glimpse of the intruder, and I couldn't but recognize his figure.

"Isabella, stop." Edward caught my should."We cannot run after him unarmed. We don't know whether he possesses a weapon."

Unfortunately, the orchard grew thick with trees and was a maze of long rows. Only now I began to realize that it was a senseless idea to follow the intruder into the dark, without having any weapon and proper illumination.

"Edward, I think I might know who he is." I spoke through my heavy breath. "We must find my uncle and my father ,and notify them of the intrusion, but he could find enought time to escape somewhere else until then."

"Are you certain? I could barely see his face."

"I almost have no doubt regarding his identity; I would have recognized him anywhere. The truth is, I partially expected that he would turn here tonight."

"I remember now that Sir Hale mentioned to us earlier to be aware of things of anything particularly unusual and if we believed that things were out of order. Was he referring to this intruder?"

"Yes, he was."

"Who is he and why did you expect him to appear here tonight?"

"It's a long and an unpleasant story, but I think you would understand if I told you that the Hale family are his sworn enemies."

"I did not intend to intrude, were I aware of the severity of this situation, but say no more." he increased the pace of his step, and we broke into a run toward the venue of the celebrations.

He walked so fast that I nearly had to run beside him, to match up with the pace of his steps.

Uncle George was nowhere in sight, so Edward and I split parted on our ways.

I went to search after Charlie, which proved to be an easier task. Charlie stood not afar from the dance floor, arms folded as he observed cautiously the guests, and unaware of my mother dancing with Mr. Dwyer.

"Father?"

"What is wrong, Bella? You look pale."

"You must listen what I am about to say. I have a reason to believe that I had just seen Royce King. He was hiding in the bushes, by the fountain. I tried run in pursuit of him, but he slipped away and run in orchard's direction."

"What were you doing on your own at such secluded place, Bella? You have tried to do something very silly. I have not got the time to deal with you at the moment, but I will certainly discuss it with you later." he said sternly. "Stay here and mingle with the crowd, and under no circumstance, remain on your own. Is is clear?"

I nodded, but he already walked away very quickly.

I followed with my eyes where Charlie went. I could see him approaching toward a some men, who were probably his confidants. Soon enough, few more men joined Charlie, and then, I saw Edward approaching them, accompanied by Jasper and Sir Hale.

I couldn't hear a word of their conversation, but the men broke parted in several directions, trying not to alarm the wedding guests.

Edward walked quickly toward me.

"Find Rosalie," he said. "Tell her it's about time for them to depart. Take her to the house and stay in her room until Sir Hale will join you. I will be following you closely behind."

"What about Emmett?"

"Leave him to me. Now, make haste."

Rosalie and Emmett were sitting at the honour table, drinking and laughing, unaware of the stirring alarm.

"Rose," I called. "It about time to get ready to leave."

"So soon?" she asked.

I tried to keep my appearance calm and undisturbed. "Your father believes so. He said it was time for you to prepare to depart."

To my great relief, out of nowhere, along appeared Alice.

"Come on Rose, make haste." she commanded."Haven't Bella told you yet?"

"Be with you soon darling," Emmett kissed Rosalie, as we prepared to leave.

"Is everything is alright?" Rose asked, when we were pacing too quickly toward the house. "Why is the great rush?" Fortunately, she was not too suspicious, given the calming influence of champagne and wine.

"You are going to miss your train," replied Alice, "that's why."

I was wondering who had alerted Alice, since she seemed to be aware of the real reason of the sudden change of plans.

Before we entered the house, I turned my head back to see that Edward was following us behind at a distance, just as he promised, and he gave me a barely visible nod to acknowledge that he was there to secure us.


End file.
